How Long Before Time Runs Out?
by AgentARose007
Summary: Cammie stayed. She couldn't run not knowing if Mr. Solomon would ever wake up, but when he does, she realizes her time is running out. Moments of tendernes between Joe and Cammie-so not in a romantic way.- Non-compliant with GG5.
1. Not Yet

**Chapter 1**

**Not Yet**

**Cammie's POV**

_Run._

_Run._

_Run._

The voice inside me still urged me to _run_, but an even louder voice replied; '_Not Yet, Cammie, not yet,' and_ I listened. I stayed. I had no desire of relieving my last break and much less of placing Bex and her parents in a sticky situation (again). So, no matter how many times Bex plead with me to go with her to Geneva or how many times Mom tried to coax me to leave because "It'd be good for me," I refused to leave the Academy this summer. I refused to hide somewhere in the world from a terrorist group that was dead set on finding me. But most importantly, I just couldn't leave Mr. Solomon

I turn to observe Mr. Solomon; I watch as his chest slowly rises and falls. I become aware of the beeping monitor, a painful reminder of the weeks that have passed since that night. As the weeks pass I see his body growing thinner, but I haven't allowed myself to lose hope. I already lost my dad, I wouldn't lose him too. I really don't think I could stand to lose him.

**Summary of Surveillance**

**(Because the fact that school is out is no excuse to let our guard down)**

**Operatives: Cameron Morgan…only.**

**Report of stay in the Gallagher Infirmary after the hot ex-CoveOps teacher was left in a comma:**

**Number of hours I've been here today: **

**3 hours fourteen minutes (and counting) **  
><strong>Number of times a nurse has entered the room: <strong>

**4 – Two to check the monitor, one to change the IV bag and another one to bring me food **_**and **_**check the monitor.**

**Number of times the monitor has beeped in the three hours I've been here:**

**12,960**

**Number of times I have wished Mr. Solomon would wake up: **

**Enough to make my heart ache in longing.**

**Agent Morgan has recently discovered that staying at the Gallagher Academy for the summer is not as simple or as fun as it may seem. Yet, she knows that that's where she ought to be.**

In the weeks since that night, I have often found myself here, at the infirmary. I have sat in this leather couch and watched, as slowly, Mr. Solomon's body consumed itself. But the monitor machine still beeps, the brain scans haven't alert us to any problems, and with each beep I try to remind myself that he's still alive, still there, still sleeping.

During school nights I used to come down here with my friends, and we'd keep a light conversation while trying to ignore the beeping machine. But it's summer now and their gone: Liz, to her parents in Alabama, pretending to be a normal girl (which she _obviously _isn't_). _Macey, in her parents' villa home in Tuscany, pretending to be a spoiled heiress (which she actually is) and Bex, of course, is facing dangers beside her parents-slash-spies.

Then Zach became a constant companion. He , like me, is a prisoner to this mansion.-Although he confinement, as far as I'm concerned, is voluntary, and for that I'm thankful, thank full for the way he'd just hold me close and whisper reassuring words, for the times we spend in silence, hoping fiercely that Mr. Solomon would wake up soon. But that was long ago, before I realized that lounging around is not his cup of tea, and that It's torture for him to see Mr. Solomon comatose, unmoving, and barely what'd you'd call living. Although he doesn't say it, his growing absence from the infirmary is enough to tell me that he's tired of waiting. No, I don't believe that he has given up hope, for hope is the last thing we let go of. He is just tired of holding on to tight. So we are content now to spend our time here apart for the most time, and now I'm thankful for the fact that he can still manage to sneak into town to buy me a corndog now and then.

Aunt Abby has stopped being the ghost she was throughput my child hood, but I don't think it's for the better. Still, she used to drop by into the mansion once every week, and come down here with me, stay for a while, chatting casually about missions of the past, reminiscing the time she, my dad and Mr. Solomon save the world ( –or the part of the world that is the US). I'm sure such information is classified, but she doesn't care and neither do I. But she too got tired of waiting and so the only who haven't are me and my mom. When she's not halfway across the world, she's usually here, always fussing, fidgeting, waiting and hoping, but since being halfway across the world is her favorite hobby, it's usually only me down here.

Mom and Abby are constantly out of the mansion, leaving me to the care of the staff, the guards and my ever-present security team. Things between them and I are tense, we don't know what to talk about, nothing seems like a good topic now, not Mr. Solomon, not my school (when it's out of session), not Zach, not plans for vacations since I refuse to budge from here. Nothing. At the rare dinner, we keep conversations down to a minimum.

This summer, I seem to be doing things that contradict each other. I'm waiting for Mr. Solomon to wake up, so that we could return to some degree of normalcy, and yet I'm still planning my escape. I _have _to leave; I have to search for answers. I have to at least try.

So as the good spy I'm, I have set the deadline for three months;because, a whole summer _should _be enough time for the flame of hope inside me to slowly fade, flicker and die and that way it will be less painful to turn my back on him and all safety I've known and face the unknown. Or so I hoped. But, if worse came to worse I'd leave the day before classes resumed, and would probably, do the unforgivable.

I'd have to leave a letter expressing my permission to disconnect Mr. Solomon's life support. My consent wasn't _legally _necessary to disconnect him, but Aunt Abby and Mom found it imperative to have it before even thinking of taking action. It was a subject that, from the time Dr. Anders had first spoken of it, had become a taboo issue between Mom, Aunt Abby and I and had also amounted to the already existing tension between us.

It was decision we couldn't take lightly. I had refuse point blank to discuss, and until now, I thought that my answer would always be _No._ But, I realize now, it is something, that, for the sake of moving on, I'd have to do.

When I think of it, I find myself staring into Zach's cold, dark eyes. His eyes burning with hatred, blaming me for Mr. Solomon's demise, blaming me for not holding on a bit longer. This image burns behind my lids when I think of writing the letter, but that doesn't stop me from thinking about it because I know he'll forgive me. Maybe not for a few months, perhaps not for a decade, but once the anger had subsided, he'll forgive me. He'll forgive me, but I don't know if I could forgive myself if I did, and I don't know if I could move on if I didn't..

If I leave, I have to let him go, I have to let go of him and let him rest in peace. As much as I love him I wouldn't-_couldn't-_ put the rest of the people I love in more danger by my presence. So even if the decision would hunt me for the rest of my life, I know I'll let him go, because life must go on, and I had to let go; everyone must do so at some point in their lives.

I'm a spy, after all. This is the life I chose when I had the option not to. I know I shouldn't forge profound relationships with anyone, I shouldn't grow roots to hold me down, I can't afford to bound myself to anyone, or tie myself to a place because in the end I know it will only hurt more when it was all taken away.

I had seen the consequences of this life in my parents, and the suffering it caused my mom. Aunt Abby; when I could never see enough of her or know where she was at any given time. I'm now living a part of it with Mr. Solomon and it _hurts_. I feel it too with Zach; our relationship is too rocky and difficult because of the lives we lead and most of the times we find ourselves in an impasse. In a few years I'll feel it with my girls when we'll all be scattered around the world in deep, deep cover and even deeper danger.

These are examples of what being a spy means. I know I'll get myself hurt along the way, but I don't care _now_, because a good spy knows that the only thing they've got is the present and right now, I have them, and looking at Mr. Solomon, I have hope and I wouldn't let go of either. Not until I had to.

"Ms. Morgan?"

I'm brought out of my train of thought by the gentle voice of the young doctor who diligently cared for Mr. Solomon day and night; he too, was a constant companion in my time spent here.

"Yes, Dr. Anders. What can I do for you?" I ask taking the tissue he was offering and dabbing my face slightly, I didn't fail to notice that the usual small smile in his face was bigger than usual.

"First of all, don't cry Cameron, it's all going to be okay, "he soothed gently, his temperate blue eyes meeting mine. He had said those words countless times in the last weeks, yet I never failed to believe them and they never failed to comfort me.

"Thank you," was all I could reply as always.

He smiled "Your mother wants to see you in her office as soon as possible." He informed me while glancing at the monitor, and I did too and noticed the slight acceleration of Mr. Solomon's heartbeat. My own heart gave a flutter, but quickly quieted down as his did. It wasn't unusual for this to happen, but every time it did, it gave me a little more hope, a little bit more to hang on.

Doctor Anders turned to me, smiling warmly, a smile I quickly return, "You better get on your way." he said helping me gather my things.

"Yes, of course Dr. Anders, "I answered heaving my bag onto my shoulder.

"Take care of him, please." I added walking out the door.

"I will Ms. Morgan, and please, _behave, I don't need more patients here." _He called after me in a teasing voice but something in his voice told me he wasn't joking, nor talking about me, either.

"I will, Dr. Anders, Thank you." I reply and as quickly as possible made my way to Mom's office.


	2. Too Good To Be True

**Chapter 2**

**Too Good To Be True**

I arrive at my mom's office and knock twice before the door is unlocked and opened by my mom.  
>"Cammie, there you are!" she says addressing me rather loudly, enough to put me on alert mode.<p>

"We're been waiting for you, come in." She says, gesturing with her hand and I wonder who she means by '_we'_ as I step into her office.

"Be nice," She whispers as I walk by her.

I stop for a moment to take a glance around the room and find out that _'we'_ means Agent Townsend and Aunt Abby. I can't help but grow really, _really_ suspicious given the fact that both of them, like Zach, usually showed up in the really wacky-slash- stressful moments of my life.

"Hey Squirt!" Abby chimes and it actually takes me a few seconds to realize she is genuinely happy and she is _smiling_ that perfectly white, dazzling smile I hadn't seen in a really long time.

"Hello there, Aunt Abby," I greet and return the contagious smile, deviously wondering why she is smiling. (Not that there's anything wrong with it, but _still,_ I want to know.)

"Good afternoon Ms. Morgan." Mr. Townsend greets me formally as my mom comes and takes a seat.

"Good afternoon Agent Townsend." I greet as pleasantly as Madame Dabney has taught me to and silently wish one of Zach's stray bullets would find him now.

I take a seat besides my mom. There's an awkward silence in which eyes dart between them, silently asking each other who'd start. Since I'm not sure of whether or not I want to know what I was about to hear I just fidget with my blouse until mom clears her throat.

"Cammie, sweetie," she starts cautiously, "this morning while checking on Joe the doctors detected strong brain activity in his brain which informs us that he is entering a state of mild consciousness, meaning, he's out of the comma now, out of danger and is, as of now, only in a profound sleep. They expect him to wake up _soon._"

I hear the words but, my brain refuses to register them. It takes me a minute to process the information; it is too good to be true. If I'm not dreaming, she just told me Mr. Solomon would wake up soon. I shake my head; not daring to let my hopes get high and just ask for the worst part.

"What's the bad news? " I ask eyeing each one of them. Aunt Abby smiles brightly and answers.

"There's not much bad news, of course there's no way for us to know how much brain damage he has suffered. We are _hoping_ for the best, and the doctors say that it'll be minimal to none given the time it has taken for him to wake up and the way he subtly passed from being in comma to being in a deep sleep."

"So, he's going to be alright?" I ask the hope in my voice now noticeable. They all nod in reassurance and I have to believe them, because even if it sounds too good to be true, the reassurance of three highly trained, super intelligent government operatives should suffice in matter like this, _yet _I had noticed that there wasn't _much_ bad news so I wait until Aunt Abby goes on.

" Anyhow Cammie, if there's any bad news is that they will be transferring Joe to a hospital facility at the CIA Head Quarters in Langley at this moment."

"What's wrong with the Gallagher infirmary?" I inquire because that didn't soundlike bad news, _yet_.

"Nothing's wrong, the doctors here are highly capable of providing excellent medical treatment to patients but we are not taking any chances Ms. Morgan." retorts Agent Townsend.

"Chances with what? What's wrong with Mr. Solomon?" I ask, _hadn't they just said he was out of danger?_

Mom sighs and caresses my hair. "Nothing is wrong with Joe, sweetie. What Agent Townsend means is that we are not taking any chances _with you_." She explains, rising to her feet, and crossing her arms before she continues addressing me.

"We know Joe loves you, he loves _us, but _as much as we trust him, he still is _or was_ a double agent and the CIA doesn't trust him so we are not taking any more chances."

"Meaning that he is to be detained at Langley?"

"Not exactly, as soon as he is well enough he is going in for interrogation." answers Aunt Abby.

"Very callous interrogation, Ms. Morgan." Adds Townsend and I can't help but scoff at his statement which causes mom to glare at me.

"What do you mean by '_callous',_ which interrogation is not '_callous'_?" I ask with a note of sarcasm. Recalling the time _he _had been _my_ interrogator.

"By callous he means that we are telling Joe you _died_ the night he fell unconscious," supplies Aunt Abby looking at me intently. They all did, as if to see if I agreed with it. Which I didn't, but I realize there wasn't much of an option here.

I took a deep breath.

"Are you going to be the interrogator?" I ask directing my question at Agent Townsend.

He nodded. "I will, Ms. Morgan."

'_Joe Solomon will never be you teacher again.'_ Were the words he had said while interrogating me, and they still haunted me until now. I couldn't let him do that to Mr. Solomon. They just couldn't do that. Not to Mr. Solomon, it would destroy him and they knew this.

"No." I stated plainly. "You _can't_ do that." But I knew it wasn't up for discussion.

"He is doing it, believe me, I tried to leave him unconscious upon his arrival but your mom won't have it. She's on his side now."

"There are no sides Abigail, and perhaps you need to get that arm of yours stronger, the apple wouldn't have hit hard enough to leave him unconscious." my mom admonishes smiling and I do too, knowing that Townsend would never be very fond of apples.

"It would have if it weren't because _you_ stopped it midway." counters my aunt childishly.

"Excuse her, Edward" was all that she said, feeling the need to apologize for my aunt's behavior.

"See, Cammie? It's _Edward _now," retorts Aunt Abby, and mom reddens slightly as Agent Townsend rolls his eyes, but winks at me and I can't help but smile.

"Anyhow, Cammie, seeing that I'm perfectly conscious I _will_ direct interrogation with Joe, and you have the option of either being there to watch or staying here and waiting until he gets _home_."

"What about Zach? Is he going too? Are you going to lie about Zach too?" I ask.

"First of all, no Zach is not going, just for the sake of his safety, and second, we wouldn't exactly been lying. If Joe remembers well-which we hope he does-, he saw him die. We just won't disclose the fact the he, is in fact, alive. We are planning of having you do that if you go."

"So, you are concerned about Zach's safety, but not about _mine_? What about _not taking chances anymore?"_

"You are a top CIA protégée and Zachary is not, you'll be accompanied by a surveillance team at all times."

"-A team in which Mr. Solomon manage to break into." I pettishly point out but Mom ignores me and goes on.

"You'll be in a top CIA facility-"she continues.

"-Of which Mr. Solomon was broken out of."

She lets out a loud, exasperate sigh. "You are going Cameron, please do not look for a way around it," she says, her dark deep eyes looking at me sternly for a moment before softening.

I understand now that she had made such arrangement possible, because she didn't want Mr. Solomon to suffer more than he had too. She wanted me there to soften the blow. I honestly do not know why I countered it, I wanted to be there, I had to be there, but maybe it was because it still sounded too good to be real.

"Fine, I'll go. When do we leave?"

Agent Townsend rose from his seat.

"As soon as possible, Ms. Morgan."


	3. Memories

**Chapter 3**

** Memories**

Joe's POV

The white light pierces my closed eyes, _I must be dead._ And in heaven. I muse. _There's no heaven for me, not with the things I've done in my life_, says some part of my conscience. _Now,_ _where had that come from? What had I done? I asked myself. _

The image of a man flashed behind my lids. _Who was he?_ I tried to grasp the name for a few seconds, _Matt-Matthew…Morgan, yes that name belonged to the face, but why did it caused so much guilt?_ _Who am I? _I asked myself, and a part of me quickly replied_ 'Joe Solomon' .Good, I knew my name._ The white light continue to coax me into opening my eyes, but something told me I shouldn't, not until I knew who, where, and why I was in this situation.

That's when I became aware of continuous beeping and the feeling of a pricking needle in my wrist. I wasn't dead, I knew that much. I was on a hospital or the like. I tried reeling my mind to remember what I had last seen and nothing but blackness came then, all of a sudden a memory flooded my mind and I allowed myself to be wholly submerged in it.

"**Matthew, open the door and let me in **_**now**_**." The young man that was me demanded, standing outside an apartment door pressing on the buzzer.**

"**Who's there?" came the voice from the buzzer, who I could tell already knew who exactly I was. I sighed, chuckling lightly.**

"**Matthew Morgan, open the door **_**now**_** and let me in! its freezing and wet!" I stated, laughter detectable in my voice.**

"**Password?" Came again the teasing voice from the buzzer.**

**I rolled my eyes. "You are an idiot," I replied."**

"**incorrct." Matt replies still teasing.**

"**Mathew Morgan, last time, open the door before I knock it out. I assure you Rachel wouldn't like that."**

"**How do I know you are not a government operative seeking to recruit my daughter for a spy Academy of sorts?" He asks, enjoying my suffering.**

"**That is classified Sir. And just go ahead and press the camera button to see my face."**

"**Good idea." He said, unlocking the door and letting me in. **

"**Hey man, why the trouble in letting me in?" I say side-hugging him and giving him a pat on the back, getting his shirt wet. I proceed to take of my leather jacket andthrow it to him, just to get him wet. He catches it and hangs it on the rack next to the door. I shake my head slightly to get all the extra wetness out.**

"**I have to protect my daughter and wife, now are you sure you are not a recruiting agent for a spy school, or worst…the Circle?" he asks playfully.**

"**I don't know how you have the nerve to joke about the Circle and no, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a few more years for the recruiting agent, you girl is barely two. Talking of which, where's the little Chameleon and her mother?" **

"**Rache is taking a nap, and I think Cammie is too, but, let me go and fetch her." He says leaving me at the small living room to make myself comfortable, which I do, as I take a seat on the comfy, red leather sofa.**

**Moments later he appears at the door, carrying a somnolent girl in his arms. She deftly catches a glimpse of me. "Ank Oweey!" she exclaims, which I take for 'Uncle Joey' and promise myself to murder Matt for teaching her to address me as such. But then she stretches out her small tender hands, signaling for me to take her and I forget that promise. My heart melts and soon I'm taking her away from Matt's arms and cradle her in mine. Matt takes a seat across me, watching in amusement as Cammie snuggles to me and lays her head on my chest.**

"**Are you tired, Sweetie? " I ask, my tender tone voice surprising even me. She nods and snuggles closer and I'm compelled to place my arm around her for protection and within seconds, her breathing slows as she drifts away into dreams.**

**Matt gives a low chuckle of contentment.**

"**She likes you." He says, pointing out the obvious. I roll my eyes, not meeting his as I softly caress the angelic, innocent face lying against me.**

"**I now see why you didn't want to let me in; I wouldn't want her to have our life either." I try to joke.**

"**I don't." he replies and the way he says it makes me turn to look at him. He is not meeting my eyes, instead, a distant look has crossed his eyes and I know that he's thinking about our on-going mission.**

"**Hey-Hey look at me Matthew-, "I demand softly, and he does, his eyes meeting mine defiantly, not wanting me to repeat the empty words 'it's**_** gonna be okay', **_**but I do anyway because that's what he needs to hear. **

"**It's gonna be okay. This thing, this mission we are carrying on is going to be over, maybe not today nor in a decade, but it's gonna come to an end someday, and then you can possibly start thinking about retiring."**

"**But what if something happens to my girls?" He asks, as I if I knew the answer to everything, which I kind of do, but I'm not psychic. Anyway, I know what I'm talking about.**

"**Rachel is a strong woman she knows how to take care of herself and God help whoever threatens her little girl."**

"**Still, I wish I could opt out of this." He says his voice despairing and a twinge of insecurity races through me, because even now there's a possibility we might never achieve this together, but still there's a chance we might, but alone I can't. I cannot take on them alone and he knows that.**

"**Oh no, Matt, you don't, **_**we don't**_**. We keep at it, we have to bring them down, and this is the only chance we've got."**

"**I know, Joe, it was only a fleeting thought. I know we have to keep at this. But, what if something happens to me? What if I die and no one is there for my family?"**

"**That's not going to happen, Matt, you are the best man the Agency's got."**

**He shakes his head; even this brings no comfort, actually the best ones in our profession are the most targeted, the ones with more enemies, so I say nothing else and he resumes looking into nothingness, while my eyes fall back on Cammie.**

**I soon feel his eyes on me and on his little girl.**

"**Joe?" He asks, demanding my attention.**

"**Matt?" I reply, glancing at him, smirking. He ignores my teasing tone.**

"**Promise me, please promise me that if anything ever happens to me, promise me you'll take care of Rachel and Cammie."**

"**Nothing is gonna happen to you, mate."**

"**Promise me." He demands sternly.**

**I look back down at Cammie, and think of her strong, beautiful mother and how even now I feel the need to protect them both. **

"**Okay, I promise you I'll take care of them, I'll even get a job at the Academy when the time comes if it sooths you." I say, joking about the Academy, knowing that we won't possibly need to go to such lengths.**

**He smiles, "I'll get you that job even if nothing happens to me, I don't trust anyone else to prepare my girl for this profession of ours."**

"**I won't need the job if you are alive, she'll learn well enough from you. Besides, old Buckingham will be thrilled to have another Cameron in her class."**

The memory dissolves and the white light continues to pierce at me. _ Matt, Cammie. Where's Cammie? _The image of me turning to face a room full of uniform clad students invades my mind, and seated to the right I see, Cammie, _Ms. Morgan,_ a small part of my brain corrects, using the most familiar type of addressing, meaning I did end up teaching at the Academy. Guilt and sadness curse through me, as I realize it probably means that something happened to Matt.

Another memory takes me by surprise …**I'm at a small private airport. I watch from a distance as Matthew hugs his wife and through the comms unit I hear as he whispers something along the lines of ' I love you, I'll be back soon.' And then he turns to hug Cammie, now around the age of 12. I listen as she promises to behave, and he promises to take care of himself. That seems to suffice for the three of them and Rachel and Cammie are escorted inside the airport.**

**I walk to him.**

"**Sixteen long years to get here and I'm not allowed to go." I say longingly.**

"**Well, it's your fault the Deputy Director is suspicious of us." **

**We both chuckle, we should have kept our excitement more under control. I stare at the automatic glass doors, through where Cammie and Rachel had entered the building.**

"**So this might be it." I muse.**

"**Yup, if the breakthrough provides us with good information, we might really have a shot at them."**

**We both smile, allowing the small amount of chicken feed to uplift our spirits.**

"**Be careful now, take care of yourself."**

"**Of course I will, and you keep an eye on my girls, and in case I don't come back, you get back into their lives."**

"**I've been out of their lives for so long;-I don't think they need me in them, anymore.-"**

"**But you get back to them, sir." He cuts me out, and I acknowledge it with a nod.**

"**Besides," I continue," you are coming back. "**

**I say, wishing more than anything to be a constant figure in their lives, but we both decided, nearly ten years ago, that for everyone's safety, it would be convenient to alienate his family as much as we could from this.**

**The roar of the small private jet starts in the distance, signaling for Matt to hurry up, I give him a pat in the shoulder.**

"**Take care Matthew or I'll kill you." I say moving my hand to remove the pen with a microphone and camera from his pocket and replacing it with a microphone-less replica. He shakes his head in silent laughter before he turns to walk away and I need to get out of here before someone misses me back at The Agency.**

My brain blacks out for a few minutes, looking for another significant memory, and then it starts.

**I'm at a desk, looking down at a paper filled with encryptions, I feel a small vibration in my pocket and get out the small, untraceable and unregistered cell phone out. **

'**Get safe. I'm calling.' Reads the text, cueing me to go somewhere where we won't be over heard. I recognize the number as being that of the cutout person we are using.**

**I do so and find myself in a storage closet, and after I break a few mops with cameras and brooms with microphones, I'm safe. **

'**I'm safe.' I quickly text back and the phone vibrates again, this time with a call, I don't hesitate in picking up.**

"**Yes?"**

"**Heracles,"**

"**Here, Heracles, what has happen Hermes, any information? Has Adonis arrived?" I say, resisting the cringe it causes to speak those names.**

'**That's what I'm afraid of sir; he hasn't made contact with me yet. He did not appear to our meeting yesterday."**

_**Damn it, Matt. **_

"**Thanks, begin backup protocols immediately, I shall start backtracking immediately, too."**

**I close shut the cell phone, internally cursing Matt, the Circle, and my life itself.**

The next memories appear in a sort of montage. **I board a small jet, I land on a transited airport and lose myself in the crowd, then the scenery changes and I have successfully sneaked into the small cottage/safe house in Athens and then it all slows down, gone is the blurriness around the edges, and I see it quite clearly as I slowly open the door, dreadful of what I may or may not encounter upon entering. I get over it, and quickly shove the door open. My fears are confirmed as I switch on the light.**

**Everything, everything it's on its place, neat and organized and covered with a coat of dust, just as I left it before my departure a few months ago-sans the dust. Nothing indicates he might be here. Still, I go to check the bed, and find the sheets un-slept in and the realization sinks in. He never made it this far, and this was one of the first places he should have made it to.**

_**Do not panic **_**I keep repeating, thinking of reasons he is not here, but the only reason is that he was intercepted. **_There must have been a change of plans_**, the part of me that is optimistic whispers, but the spy and friend in me deny it. If there would have been, I would have gotten word already.**

**Emotion over takes me. "Damn it, Matt!" I curse, hitting the wall in utter frustration. Our best chance in nearly 16 years was gone, along with the hope we'd harbor for it. Gone. And now-it appears- I had lost the other half of my team.**

**The spy in me kicks in; I have to make sure I don't leave loose ends before heading back to Langley. And then, and then I must wait and hope Matt is okay, before I alert the Agency, alert them of our unauthorized **_**Covert**_** Operations we had conducted.**

**I see myself back at Langley, speaking to the Deputy Director. He makes a phone call and the full force of the agency starts its search for Matt. "Someone has to tell Rachel." The director whispers, before turning on his heel and leaving.**

_**Someone has to tell Rachel.**_

The memory changes again, and looking at myself it seems like time has passed, but I don't know how much.

**I find myself in the Gallagher Subs. Suspended about fifty feet above ground, suspended by the strongest and thinnest cables the Agency could manufacture. I'm aided by a small flashlight. I hold it in my mouth as I scribbled a note I hope Cammie will never read, but having to write it nonetheless, because the chances she will have to are great. I finish the letter and tuck it inside the spiral book I also hope she'll never read. A sigh of exasperation escapes me. **

**The man who had hurt Abby had started talking, it was just a matter of time before they start looking for me, and the truth is too complicated to try to explain, so I have to flee as soon as possible, before morning dawns. I have to hide, get off the grid and stay of the grid **_**soon.**_** But not before talking to Cammie, not before leading her here, so that she can know the truth, so that at least someone can know the truth and so that someday she can forgive me.**

**I tuck in the spiral notebook into a high shelf and lower the cables unto the ground. I look up at the small air shaft, the only viable entrance which they will be able to use. **_**Trust them, they'll find their way in, **_**my mind reassures me, knowing Cammie won't try to do this alone. It will be at least 2 hours before I can trigger all the tramps that will keep this safe and then I will be off, talk to Cammie, and disappear.**

**Guilt at having to keep Zach in suspense was killing me, but I will see him in a week's time, or probably not. I have to keep him safe too; he is just as important to me as Cammie is. I know he can handle enough information, but for now, everyone, including him will be safer if he remains on the dark side.**

Finally, the memory fades and my mind falls into darkness, I try to reel up another memory, but my brain refuses, telling me that that's enough information for now, telling me to rest, and so I succumb to darkness.

**A/N: This took _some_ time to write. What do you think of it? I really hope you enjoyed. Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	4. Waking Up

**Chapter 4**

**Waking up**

**A Disclaimer is high in order here. Aside form the obvious I don't own the Gallagher Girl Series, nor am I Ally undercover, I also do not own the final memory. It's a scene I got from GG5 (you'll recognize it). I just re-wrote it in Joe POV-because I'm awesome like that ;) I hope you enjoy. Review are greatly appreciated!**

Consciousness kicks back in. The white light has vanished, so I find it safe enough to open my eyes. The only light is coming from overhead the bed, and looking out the window, I can see the dawn is about to break. A final memory kicks in.

**I was in the Blackthorne tombs. Our own version of the Subs. I had come here to die so I offered no resistance when I was struck by Mrs. Goode. I glanced upwards and something caught my attention. It was Zach, he was clutching my journal. He had it. I sighed in relieve, it was safe and even if they caught him now, they wouldn't hurt him, but then I saw Cammie and I cursed myself and made Zach liable for bringing her here. She shouldn't be here; this was no place for Gallagher Girls, not for **_**my**_** girls anyway. They saw me. I watch as they paralyzed with fear, and I couldn't blame them, maybe they were spies-in-training but they were still kids and I was supposed to be always strong for them and they weren't supposed to see me like this; In such a weak position.**

**I quickly turned my eyes to Ms. Goode, before she could see the cause of my distraction. She was still demanding to know where Matthew's journal was. I refused to give her an answer so she struck me again. It didn't hurt, not as much as seeing Cammie so confuse and scared did. Soon after, I saw Zach pull her into the shadows.**

"**I'm only going to ask you one more time." She threatened as she moved closer. "Where is the log book that belonged to Matthew Morgan?" she hissed.**

**She wanted Matt's journal, not privy to what was inside, thinking it might be of any use for her. But regardless, it wasn't here. By now Cammie had read it and it was now safe and hopefully, someday, Cammie would be able to forgive me for everything.**

**I again refused to answer and that wasn't the last time she asked, because she was desperate to have it and couldn't kill her only lead to it. So she asked and I refused to answer and got struck again. She was about to strike me again but her eyes caught something behind me. She laughed and I painstakingly turned to see Cammie and Zach being dragged in by a couple of goons**

"**Found them on a sweep." The guard said, dragging them down the stairs, I saw as they struggled to break free, but it was useless, they were too strong and I felt utterly helpless. Ms. Goode walked past me, closer to Cammie, looking at her, appraising her.**

"**Oh, this is a surprise," she turned to smile deviously at me. "Joe, you clever boy, why didn't you tell me you were bringing me a present?" She cooed. Wrath simmered inside me.**

**I looked at Cammie, and saw the regret in her eyes, and I saw as Ms. Goode continued to eye her. **

"**They go or I give you nothing!" I cried in rage, and it wasn't like I would give her anything anyway.**

"**Now, why would I do that?" she asked, "Break up this touching reunion?" she asked, her hand reaching out as if to stroke Cammie's hair, but at the last minute she shifted, reaching for Zach's cheek and said "Hello, sweetheart, aren't you going to introduce your girlfriend to your mother?" **

**She had blown away Zach's cover and I saw the confusion in Cammie's eyes, she couldn't comprehend that Zach and 'the women' were related but after a few moments the confusion changed to revulsion. I turned to look at Zach's pained and saddened eyes unable to turn away from his mother's touch and deny the fact that presented itself.**

"**She's you mother." Cammie stated plainly. It wasn't a question. Now it was a data point, and Zach was slowly starting to make sense to her.**

"**Gallagher Girl-"Zach started reaching for her, but she pulled away, his fingers barely grazed her skin. I saw in her eyes that she wouldn't allow him to be near her again and I couldn't blame her, after all this was the second time a Blackthorne 'boy' had seemingly betrayed her.**

"**It's very nice to finally meet you, Cammie, I've heard so much about you." Spoke Zach's mother serenely. "I hope you are not afraid. I'm sure Joe here would gladly confirm that we don't want to kill you" I didn't need to tell her, we both knew it was true, and we also knew they wanted her for something far worse.**

"**Cammie-I" Zach tried to reach for her, but she again pulled away and it hurt me deeply to see them both struggle with these emotions.**

"**Oh, sweetheart, I can see why you like her." His mother laughed. "But now, everyone spread out and search for Morgan's dairy." She eyed Zachary and Cammie. "And someone search the two of them."**

**One guard was fast to hold me down as one stepped closer to Cammie, she then looked at Zach and he whispered, "Now."**

**Now I watch proudly as Cameron threw her weight back against the guard who was holding her and kicked the guard in front of her. In the corner of my eye I saw Zach kick a filing cabinet in his mother's direction. It crashed against her, knocking her to the floor. Paper falling all around her while the guard pushed Cammie aside and ran to his boss aid.**

"**What are you doing?" The she yell. "Get her!" and that was it. That was the final straw. I impaired the guard holding me down by a well-placed kick and I lunged toward one of the man near the entrance of another tunnel. I threw my bound hands over his head and quickly strangled him. I saw Cammie come this way but was stopped by a guard whom she quickly disabled; I continued to keep the guards off her as she fought with Zachary's mother.**

"**You are far prettier up close." She said ducking form a hit, but Cammie didn't let her concentration waver; she managed to land a swift punch to her kidney and another to her face.**

"**Oh yes," she said, whipping at the blood that trickled from the side of her mouth. "I can certainly see the appeal."**

"**Forgive me if I can't say the same." Cameron quipped in and I gave a low chuckle while ducking from a punch that was thrown at me. Across the room I saw Zach had taken an old sword from the wall and was fighting two men at once. I continue to fight the men that where coming at me, but I could feel my strength slipping away. Sleepless nights and days of not eating where finally taking their toll on me and the deep gash on my leg plus my somewhat impaired vision didn't help. I couldn't duck with the same agility and no longer had strength enough to keep fighting, but I did anyway. I'd fight for Cammie and Zach till the very end.**

**The swords stopped clashing, and two men lay at Zach's feet. Our eyes met, and he saw me struggling to keep up, he was soon dashing to my aid but I then saw a men on the ground take out a gun and take aim at him.**

"**No!" Someone scream. I thought it was Cammie, but a spare glance told me she was too shock to shout so I knew it was his mother, the only person in this cave able to save Zach, she turned from Cammie and started toward her son.**

**I watched Zach's mother slammed into the gunman-heard the weapon clatter across the floor. I looked at Cammie and saw she was free, she could run but she didn't move. Everything seemed to freeze for that one second, as Zach picked up the gun and yelled "Now! Run!"**

**But Cammie didn't run, she couldn't move, 'Good-bye' Zach mouthed to her and I took one last glance at her, seeing the face that was so much like Rachel's and so much like Matthew's for one last time.**

**This was it, this was the end for us, I hadn't planned on it to turn out this way, but now I couldn't change it. I hadn't meant for Zach to be here, but he was and he was now risking his life for Cammie.**

**Cammie started running a second before he shot the explosives lining the wall. The cave went up on red hot fire, I turn to Zach and met his eyes one last time before darkness over took me.**

That had been it. That's how it had ended, well, that's how it should have ended, but somehow I was here and _Zach wasn't. _ My heart ached to think of it, but at least, well at least Cammie was safe or so I hoped, the last I've seen of her she had been running, running to safety and could not help but hope she had reached it.

"He's awakening doctor." I heard a female voice say, breaking me from my reverie, and I could picture the nurse checking the monitor.

"Good, I'll go fetch Agent Townsend" said the doctor as I heard his footsteps exiting the room. I tried to keep my face impassive and my breathing slow and rhythmic, while inwardly I cringed. Excellent. Just what I needed, if, my mind didn't fail me, he was bringing in a git with an air of superiority to come here and probably tell me I had been dismissed from the CIA and was about to live undercover for the rest of my life. Or more realistically, ask me if I remembered my name and after I'd say yes, he's proceed to tell my how utterly stupid I had been at dragging two kids to the Blackthorne Subs and now, I couldn't blame him, I would if – if Zach hadn't –hadn't died.

Emotional pain gave a pang at my heart and an involuntary sound escaped my lips, a sound that could only be described as a choked whimper. I pursed my lips, knowing I had blown the cover away.

"Sir?" the nurse asked as I slowly opened my eyes and let them adjusts to the bright lighting.

"_You are awake," _The nurse states rather than asks, as I try to reply with a 'yes', but it comes out choked, my mouth dry from the lack of usage.

"Here."

She offers me a glass of water as I finally open my eyes, my hand reaching out to take the glass, the young nurse makes sure I grab it well, the muscles in my hands weak from lack of usage, and I sigh, knowing it's take a while to get fit. I bring the water to my lips and take down the fresh, clear liquid, listening to it as it gurgles down my throat, re-moisturizing it, easing the constriction that was there a few seconds ago.

"Thank you." I reply, my voice so soft I barely recognize it as my own. The nurse nods in acknowledgement, while glancing at the monitor.

"Where am I?" I ask her, guessing I'm at the Gallagher Infirmary, the CIA Medical Center or, having been released from the CIA, it could be whichever hospital.

"First tell me who you are." She contradicts, and I give a small chuckle, no other hospital than the CIA Med. Center would quiz their patients upon waking from a coma.

"Solomon, Joe, Solomon." I reply, and see the laughing glint in her hazel eyes as she reaches for my hand and deftly pulls out one of the IV needles.

"Welcome back, Sir," she says as I wince from the momentary shot of pain.

"Indeed, welcome back Joseph." Says a cold voice, that belongs to the satirical man standing by the door.

"Janelle, please give me leave to speak to him." His British accent drawls.

I see as Janelle exits, leaving me alone with Townsend.

"Came to visit all the way from the 6?" I ask, already guessing he pleaded to be in my case, in one of his marvelous attempts to bring down the Circle, to catch a bad guy, or what Matt and I would call it, 'play with fire'.

His blue eyes look at me, his face not giving anything away. He just shrugs "Someone had to do it." He replies, as he grabs a nearby chair and takes a sit on it. Cueing me that the debrief is about to start. I try to pull myself upwards on the hospital bed, but I notice, that'd be painful, since there's still a needle in my wrist, and one hand cannot possibly support my weight at the moment.

"What is the last thing you remember?" He shoots at me, his voice leveled, yet I know he is waiting for me to slip up, so I go for the truth in this case.

"Fire," I reply simply, seeing the explosion before my eyes, the flames engulfing the circular room in a moment, my eyes closing and succumbing to darkness.

He nod, and moves on. "Where?"

"The Blackthorne subs." I say simply, not having a reason to lie, not wanting to lie anymore, just wanting him to deliver me to my fate and let me grieve Zach in solitude, and as if he is reading my mind he asks "With whom?"

I close my eyes, more out of emotional pain, than effort to remember.

"Zach, Zia, guards." I reply, leaving out Cammie, because it hurts too much admitting to that error. Yet, he prompts "And?" And yet again, I don't have another reason to conceal it.

"Cammie," I whisper softly, bringing to mind the wish that wherever she is, she may one day forgive me for all my mistakes.

"Remember why you were there?" He asks.

"They wanted something." I reply, still keeping my answers simple.

"Looking for this?" he says, and I feel my eyes widen in surprise at recognizing Matt's log book, the one he never finished, the one I carry on. I let out a sigh of relief knowing there's no way he could have possibly deciphered it.

"You are right, I haven't deciphered it, no one has so far." He says, concealing it again in within his medical cloak. I'm about to protest, but is futile, he rises from his seat, tuning to walk away, leaving me hanging without a word about my fate. He's at the door when he turns back.

"Get some rest." He suggests, "The interrogation begins in a couple of hours." He says, letting me know that this was only to test my memory, to see what I remembered, to see if I can be held liable for my actions, and I know that's what I want right know, for someone to yell at me, diminish me, tell me how astoundingly stupid it was for me to drag two kids to the Tombs, to tell me that I'll pay for that, suffer for the life I had taken.

At this moment I'm thankful for the fact that he closed the door, because at this moment I can't hold it anymore, I can't keep pretending Zach is somewhere, out there waiting for me, because in truth he is dead, dead because of me, because of my carelessness, and overconfidence. Dead due to the mission I have so far failed to complete.

I think about the pain it caused Cammie, about the fact that possibly, there wasn't even a body left to be buried, and knowing that somewhere, by Cammie's bidding, stands and empty grave, marked by a grave stone with _Zachary Goode _engraved upon it_._

I won't see him again, I won't see his knowing smile, and his eyes looking at me with reassurance. I have succeeded in killing the only person who believed in me when everyone else ceased to do so. The thought alone is enough to get me choked up on emotion. I turn to my pillow and silently let it smother and dry the tears that start oozing out of my eyes, small sobs shaking my body slightly. It's futile to try to sleep; My brain won't spare me from the pain this time. But, I still feel it working, even as my heart breaks into tiny pieces, my brain realizes something went terribly wrong. '_No one has so far.' __**No one**__ has deciphered the code._


	5. Interrogation

**Originally this was going to be a one- shot, and this was that one chapter, which is my personal favorite. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

**Chapter 5**

**Regrets**

I watch from the one-way glass window in the cold, sterile room in which I really don't want to be in. I see Agent Townsend walk in through the other door, his face bearing a blank mask. Then comes in Mr. Solomon, bruises still mark his body, but no burned flesh remains- thanks to our great surgeons. He's pale and appears even thinner than he did two days ago, heavy bags have formed underneath his drawn eyes, his expression is composed, but I have seen him enough times, to know that there is something troubling him, and I realize, that I'd truly regret agreeing to this and wanted nothing more than to hug him and welcome him to the conscious world, but I can't. I can only sit here and watch him go through this_ torture _I had help set up

Mr. Solomon takes a seat in the cold metal table; and even after six weeks of dreamless sleep he seems exhausted, his face haggard and his deep blue-green eyes have lost their shine; they now look dull and haunted. Agent Townsend goes to the wall and presses a small button, the speakers around me come alive.

"Identify yourself." Agent Townsend demands, his voice low and unbiased, walking around the table, turning to face Mr. Solomon.

"Joseph Solomon" he answers, not adding extra information. Not needing to at the moment. His voice, I notice, is rough from lack of usage. I sigh, hating seeing Joe Solomon not in control of the situation.

"Good" Townsend say, not caring much for his answer as he moves around and pushes knobs on the polygraph, which is just there as a decoy this time. I see Mr. Solomon take in a deep breath, the gesture in itself looking difficult to carry on,

"For how long had you been teaching at the Gallagher Academy, Joe?" He asks, using his first name as if they're good friends, which they are anything but.

"Almost two years." He replies, his voice low, exhausted, defeated.

"Before that, what was your relationship with Rachael Morgan?" asks Townsend leaning on the table, facing Mr. Solomon.

"She _is_ a good friend of mine." He answered his voice low and even through the speakers, I can hear the twinge of uncertainty.

"How did you meet her?" Townsend carries on.

"She was my best friend's wife." My teacher replies and I can't help but notice the saddened expression in his eyes.

"Whose side are you on?" Agent Townsend snaps the question, which seems to have no effect on Mr. Solomon.

"Cammie's." He answers without hesitation, without a doubt and I want so much to stop it here, for him not to go through this whole trial, but he has to, and I _have_ to watch it happen. I take a steadying breath as it goes on.

"Is it true that you only took the position _after_ you knew you'd be teaching her?"

"Yes, of course" Mr. Solomon replied.

"On which motives?"

"To prepare her for this life." He said gazing around him, Agent Townsend nods.

"You failed. Joe," he tells him, letting the information drop _callously._

"I'm sorry Joe, I really am." He went on "Such a brilliant child, with such promising future."

He says, resuming his walk around the table, and I see emotions fleet through my mentor's eyes, as he tries to grasp the words.

Townsend carries on. "They tried to save her, they really did try their best, but Ms. Morgan died of intra-cerebral hemorrhage after being forced to jump of a cliff."

Mr. Solomon shakes his head slightly, "No." he whispers, denying it, not wanting to believe it. And still Agent Townsend keeps going, his voice and face drained from all emotion.

"Just for the record, the funeral was small and _lovely_, fitting for such a young pretty lady leading this life. Everyone whom she loved was there, her _teachers_, and classmates. Actually, there were only _two_ persons whom she would have also wanted there. You off course and that boy, Zachary."

"Stop," Mr. Solomon demands, having heard enough, drawing the line at hearing Zach's name thrown in without much consideration. "_Stop,_" He repeats.

"Why, Joe? I'm only filling you in on what you missed. Didn't you wonder why Rachael and Abby where not there when you woke up? Why they are not here? In their eyes, you betrayed her-_betrayed them_- _You _where the reason she was there that night, the reason she didn't _run."_

Mr. Solomon closes his eyes in pain from hearing those words as he let their meaning wash over him.

"I killed her, I _killed_ her I killed them." He repeats silently and painfully, letting it sink in, believing he's to blame. And at that moment it becomes too much. I want to break the glass, scream and shout and tell him I'm okay. I want him to see me, and I want this to stop, but I can't. So I just draw my arms around myself, and watch, dying for the moment in which I could show myself.

"My job is done, Joseph, I had to break it to you. I'm sorry. Now I'll leave you to process that information. In a few moments someone will come to instruct you on what will happen next." Townsend says, his voice showing some compassion for the first time as he exits the rooms.

"You can go in five minutes Ms. Morgan." He says, looking at me, his eyes apologetic. I nod my thanks and he leaves me to wait.

The next five minutes are torture of the worst kind; seeing someone you love suffer like that, unable to do anything and knowing you are to blame. All of this just to prove he wasn't a cold-blooded traitor, to prove what we all already knew.

For the second time in my life, I see Mr. Solomon cry, but last time I was only half conscious. Now I'm forced to watch as he let himself fall to the floor, burying his face into his hands. "No, Cammie No… forgive me Matthew, Cammie, please forgive me," he pleads silently, his voice coming out choked as the tears fall, and sobs start rippling through his body.

There's no shame in it, just love, regret and unbearable pain. All his covers faded away, right there he was not my teacher, nor the best spy I ever knew. He's my father's best friend, the man who _had and would_ do anything to protect me, to make sure I was ok. In many ways, I realized, just like a father to me and here I was, watching him suffer, suffer because of _me, _because _I _had agreed to _this_. The guilt of it claws at me. It was I who had betrayed him.

My face is tear-stained as I carefully open the metal door, his sobs were quiet now, he was so lost in grief he didn't notice my presence.

"I'm here." I whisper almost inaudibly.  
>He stops, not turning towards me, not daring to hope, or to believe I was here.<p>

"I-I am here. There's nothing wrong up there. Trust me. Every thing _is _fine. I know a little something about these things." I say, echoing the words he said to me almost a year ago, not bothering in trying to hide the smile in my voice.

"Cammie?" he asks, his voice barely above an uncertain whisper. I place my hand on his shoulder and he places his on mine, making sure I'm there before rising to his feet a little unsteady and turns to face me. I reach out and place my hands on his chest, fearful that he might topple over. After a moment, he takes my hands in his, and I turn up to him, smiling with tears still running down my face. I meet his eyes. He stares back at me, taking in every inch of my face. It takes him a moment, but at last he chuckles, shaking his head in great disbelief, and even greater relief, and the next moment I'm ensnared in his embrace.

"Cammie." He whispers into my ear. "You are here. Cammie, I thought I'd lost you. You are here. _Alive_." He continues to whisper kissing the top of my head as I feel hot tears seep into my hair.

"I'm here, Sir, I'm _here, _I'm _alive. I'm okay, It's okay_" I sooth, burying my hot, tear-stained face into his chest and trying hard to quite the choking sobs that threatened to seize me. I inhaled in the sweet aroma of the soap that still unexplainably smelled wholly better on Blackthorne Boys.

We stand there for a few minutes, crying silently, supporting and holding on to each other and I finally find my voice to whisper, "We get to go home, now." I say, but I lose my voice again, before I can tell him about Zach, so I just bury my face into him again.

"I missed you," I whisper softly, as I feel him kiss my head over and over again.

"I'm here." he tells me, "I'm not leaving." he says and this should make me happy were it not for the part of me that thinks '_but I am.'_


	6. Coming Clean

**Chapter 6**

**Coming Clean**

"The doctor said you needed rest, Sir." I tell him as I drive the cover up to his chest, glad that I finally got him to lie back in the hospital bed.

"I feel fine. I have more things to do." He counters not meeting my eyes, but rather looking into the pillow, and I know what's bothering him. It's Zach, and I still can get the courage to tell him, to let him out of his guilt-filled conscience. I don't know what's so hard about telling the truth, perhaps that fact of admitting to betrayal or that maybe, being a spy in training makes it hard admitting to a lie. I sigh, wanting so much to tell him, but not finding the words that say, 'I made you suffer on purpose, I betrayed you.'

"The world waited for you six weeks. I'm sure can wait a few more hours. Get some rest." I say instead, opting out on the impulse of reaching to kiss his forehead because that'd just be too awkward and going to plop myself down on the small blue couch by the window that for now, provides the only source of light into the room, making it dim enough for someone to conceive sleep.

I pick up my newest issue of Espionage Today, and pretend to read while waiting for the fatigue to take over him. The fact that I haven't told him about Zach eating away at my. I start biting lightly at my lip and realize how it might look to him, so I turn up to see him. He is gazing intently, at me, and I can see he's choked up with emotion.

"Go to sleep." I say again, my voice steady, as I gaze back to the magazine I have no interest in reading. I know I shouldn't speak to him in that condescending tone, and normally I wouldn't dare to tell Joe Solomon to go to sleep, but now, it's what he needs, some rest, and someone to guide him back into the world.

"You must hate me," he voices all of a sudden, his voice low, frail, causing me to look at him stunned.

"Zach…" he starts, but I sigh, throwing down my magazine as I rise from the couch and go over to the hospital bed.

"Excuse me," I say, motioning for him to scoot over, taking some tissues from the nightstand before perching myself at the edge of the surprisingly steady bed. He is now propped up against the fluffy pillows. I tentatively move my hand to reach his. He welcomes my touch and holds my hand securely, and I realize how much he needs the comfort of it, and I realize too, that he is seeking my forgiveness, when it should be me begging for it.

He opens his mouth to speak, but I motion with my free hand for him to silence.

"If I disclose unknown facts from the night of the incident, will you please go to sleep afterwards, Sir?" I ask tentatively, knowing I shouldn't be making deals with my teacher as I search for the right words to tell him the truth, realizing they must start with an apology as my thumb starts drawing circles on the back of his hand.

He looks at me quizzically. "Go ahead, Ms. Morgan." He says, and the use of my last name tells me he is not sure of whether or not he wants to hear what I am about to disclose. I give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Promise,-Promise you'll try to go to sleep, I want to get out of here too, but the doctor wants you to sleep before giving you leave." I say, my voice taking a nervous edge because those weren't the words I planned to utter. The ones I did went along the lines of _Promise me you won't get mad at me._ But that'd be unfair, because he has every right to do so. So I just look up at him to see him nod in assessment.

I seize this moment to grasp our clasped hands with my free one, holding his between both of mine, and I stare into them, as I spill out the words.

"Please, please forgive me for not saying this before, I-I just, I just couldn't find the way to do it, I don't know why, but please forgive me for not saying this before." I say realizing I'm rambling, as his free hand gently raises my chin to look at him.

"Cam, tell me, what is it." He demands softly.

"Zach-Zach" I take a deep shuddering breath, gathering the courage to speak the truth. "Zach is okay." I finally say looking into his eyes for a moment, seeing as he takes in the information, before his hand falls and my gaze drops to his hand in mine.

"It's a lie." He contradicts, disbelieving, his hands start to shake slightly. "Please don't lie to me, I can go to sleep without the lie, and without the tea," he whispers, drawing his shaking hand around my head, pulling it close to his and kissing my forehead.

I struggle to make sense of the last phrase. I gasp. Realizing he thinks so low of me as to lie to him in this way, lie about Zach so that his conscience is at ease and can slip into unconsciousness, and feed him the memory-erasing tea, so that'll he'll forget I said it, and we can go back home.

I draw myself up, shaking my head, "No. I wouldn't. I can't. I betrayed you, I let them lie, I couldn't find the words to tell the truth before. He's okay. He's alive. He's waiting for us to come back home." I tell him, my clutch on hand tightening in a futile attempt to control our shaking hands.

"I saw him die." He tells me. Refusing to get his hopes up, knowing there's no way the same darn good thing can happen twice in a day. It goes against everything he's been taught for years. Getting your hopes up will only hurt you, the dead don't come back to life. Cammie wouldn't betray you.

"You did not. You saw him shoot, you saw me run, you saw the room go up in flames, but you didn't see him run, too." I explain, unlatching one of my hands to grace his face lightly, coaxing him to meet my eyes.

"Prove it." He says, his voice near a breaking point, his eyes pleading me not to break his heart.

"Kay." I reply, grabbing his hand and bring it to my lips, kissing his knuckles before getting out of the bed. I rummage in my backpack, pulling out the small silver cell phone Zach has demanded for me to carry everywhere. I open it and go back to stand beside the bed as I dial the number by rote and hit _**call**_ followed by _**speaker**_. I place one of my hands on Mr. Solomon's arm. He is looking intently as the phone rings once…twice.

"Gallagher Girl, is everything okay? Are you okay?" Zach's urgent voice demands to know, since this phone thing is supposed to be only for emergencies.

I see Mr. Solomon's eyes widen. "Zach" he whispers, not loud enough to be caught by the phone. I smile.

"Yes, perfectly okay. Just called to tell you we'll be going back in a couple of hours, expect us there before midnight. Tell mom, kay?"

"Yes. Of course." He says letting out a breath of relief. "Is Joe okay? How did the interrogation go-Never mind I don't want to know the last part. Is he okay?"

"He is now. I have to go." I whisper, seeing as Mr. Solomon covers his face with his hands, he's not crying, but I can tell his very close to doing so.

"Take care of him Gallagher Girl. I love you." Zach tells me.

"Love you more." I say, wanting to snap the phone shut and comfort Mr. Solomon.

"Liar." I hear him whisper as I fake a giggle and hit _**end.**_

I take one of the tissues lying on the bed as I climb. I see how much effort he's putting into not breaking down before me. I scoot closer to him. "I'm so sorry." I whisper seeing him struggle with his emotions, and I wonder how much of that emotion is directed at me, hating me for making him suffer. But I don't have much time to wonder before sobs overtake him and he pulls me into his arms, and I know that he needs to hold me to feel strong. I lean into his embrace once more, as emotion over takes me too, although I can fight off the sobs, I can't impede my voice from sounding childish and hurt as I ramble on.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I let them hurt you, I'm sorry for letting them lie to you, for betraying you in that way, Sir. I'm sorry, please forgive me."

I say as I bury my tear-stained face into his white cotton shirt, not wanting to come out. In a few moments I feel as he takes control of himself, as his sobs recede and his breath stops hitching. I feel as he grabs my arms and gently pulls me away gazing into my eyes, searching them, a light smile forming in his face.

"Baby girl," He calls me, his hands moving to remove trailing tears from my cheek, his gaze piercing mine, "I'd say I forgive you, but I don't have to. I know why they did it, I know why they lied, and I know you didn't have a choice in the matter. And even if it had been Abby, instead of me, I would have done the same, I would have lied to her the same way they did, because I am no longer taking chance with you or with Zachary. Understood?"

I nod, drying the rest of the tears with the back of my hand. I chuckle lightly.

"You promised you'd go to sleep." I remind him softly, moving to stand up from the bed, wanting him to at least sleep and hour and a half, so that we can board the helicopter back to the Academy and still arrive by midnight, but his hand moves to catch my wrist. I look back at him, a questioning look in my face.

"Stay. Please." He requests, and suddenly, I feel a compelling urge to comply, and tiredness overtakes me, making me no longer care if we get home by midnight or not, telling me that all that matters it's that he's here, we're here, and that for a few hours the Circle does not exist.

I drop back into him, not bothering to snuggle into the bed sheets, and feel him snuggle in too. In a moment, his arms encage me, shielding and protecting me. I feel one last peck to my hair and drift into sleep knowing that I am much safer in his arms than I'll ever be within the walls of the Gallagher Academy


	7. Apology

I stare at Mr. Solomon, wondering how someone could fall asleep to the sound of the hovering chopper we are in. But even as I wonder at this, I can tell he's sleeping rather lightly. His arms are crossed at his chest, his body reclined only as far as the seat will go, his head tilted back only enough to touch the headboard. His feet are extended and crossed, and through the heaving of his chest I can see he's not breathing profoundly.

"Ma'am," We will descend into the Academy in five minutes, a woman who's the only one of my security detail on board (aside from the co-pilot) informs me, which might as well be translated to 'We are here, but we are waiting for someone to disarm the mines on the designated landing area'

I nod, realizing this is my cue to wake up Mr. Solomon.

"Sir," I whisper softly as I place my hand on his shoulder. His eyes fly open and he turns to gaze at me.

"We are home" I tell him, sparing a glance at the window as we start descending unto the darkened grounds of the Academy.

He nods and I offer my hand to help him step up but he waves it away and chooses instead to use his still-swollen wrist to grab the seat in front and prop himself up. His eyes close against the pain inflicted on his wrist, and his legs shake unsteadily by the added weight. I sigh and reach out to slip my hand against his lower abdomen, helping him distribute the weight.

He finally gives up and with a last wince of pain, his arm comes around to rest on my shoulder and the other moves to rest across his stomach.

As a general rule, spies do not admit to weakness. We do not ask for breaks, we do not beg for mercy, but we also never refuse help from our own people. So I remind him kindly he is not expected to be invincible.

"You are allowed to accept help." I whisper. He sharply turns to me, his gaze appraising me, making me wonder if I spoke that in English and not in Farsi by mistake.

He sighs. "I know…It's just that…" He hesitates, and I shake my head slightly.

"It's okay. I know." I tell him, realizing that as a double spy, he wasn't allowed to ask for help, and risk blowing his cover. That secret was a dangerous one, the work he was conducting to bring the Circle down was perilous, and he shouldn't have allowed anyone to help him lighten his burden by sharing it, but he had, he had asked for help and let my Dad in and he was dead because of it and ever since my Dad's demise, Joe Solomon had been a one-man operation; An operation that was failing to accomplish itself at the moment.

We listen as the chopper starts slowing and now it's me who reaches for the recliner, as it brusquely comes to a stop. Mr. Solomon's body is thrown into mine, and in that single moment, when his ribcage presses against mine, I'm made aware of how frail and thin he has become.

And yet, he's still the man who walked through the Great Hall almost two years ago, the same man who hugged me in the bridge before plunging into the depths of the river in that winter day. The same man that comes home after months of absence; months that could be described as the most terrifying of my life.

Remembering those months of confusion and heart break cause me to hold a bit tighter to Mr. Solomon as we make our way to the door. He's reaching for anything that might help steady him along the way. I spare a glance at the lady who's watching our slow procession and know she'd like to offer her help, but she, like I, know Mr. Solomon wouldn't welcome it.

However, she moves over and eases the door open, and steps back, knowing this is as far as her duty goes, once at the Academy, I should be safe. I smile my thanks as Mr. Solomon grazes my hair with one last kiss.

"I can take it from here." He says and I let go and watch as he steadies himself without aid of something to recline on.

As the door opens, I see my Mom and Aunt Abby standing before one of the back entrances to the Academy. Aunt Abby has her arms crossed before her, her expression anything but happy, and my Mom just stands there, not sure of how she should react, but she finally crosses her arms too. I also notice Zach, who's concealed by the shadows of the entrance. I can tell none of us knows really what to do and that all of us would handle a Code Black, or a bomb alert better than this reunion.

Mr. Solomon descends from the chopper and I am surprised at how easily he seems to carry himself, but I am close enough to see the slight effort he's putting into his seemingly easy smile. He turns to help me down and I gently place my hand on his, knowing he's in no condition to help steady me, but he surprises me by reaching over and grabbing me from my waist, carrying me down in one swift motion.

I'm about to shake my head furiously and tell him 'You shouldn't have', but I don't because I know he's doing it all for the show, because, after all, he's Joe Solomon and no one can pull off a cover quite as well as him, so I opt for nodding and saying "Thank you, sir."

He then takes my hand and together we walk towards my Mom and Abby. As we approach them I watch as Aunt Abby steps before my mom, as if guarding her. I squeeze his hand, and let go before heading over to stand by Zach as Aunt Abby comes close to Mr. Solomon.

"You're late, Gallagher Girl," Zach whispers and I nod, knowing it's 7 minutes past midnight, but I'm watching my aunt too intently to care. I reach for his hand and feel him hesitate before he decides to interlace his through mine, and I instantly know why. It's trembling slightly. I bring it to my lips, giving it a soft kiss. "It's not a dream, "I reassure him quietly and he nods, watching Mr. Solomon. I turn to watch him too, seeing Abby approach him.

I can see she's angry and furious because he dared mess with her sister and with her niece, but I can also tell she missed him, missed his friend and co-worker and is glad to see him back. Although at this moment I didn't know which one she felt more strongly.

"Hey there, Abby" Mr. Solomon greets tentatively and my Aunt exhales loudly.

"I swear, Joseph, if it weren't because we're in front of the kids and because my sister would surely kill me, I'd slap you right back into unconsciousness this instant." She discloses, her eyes glaring at him murderously.

"I assure you, I wouldn't mind." My mom calls softly, her eyebrows raised in a silent dare. Mr. Solomon gives her a fleeting look chuckling quietly and besides me, Zach tenses. I give his hand a squeeze, knowing he'd never stand by and let harm come Mr. Solomon's way. 'They're playing' I want to tell him, but that'd blow away all the fun.

Mr. Solomon draws a deep breath, as if preparing to deliver an apology. "I-I missed you too Abigail." He confesses opening his arms to welcome her into his easy embrace. She leans into him, arms still crossed, her head touches his shoulder for a moment and a peck grazes her head. "Don't do that again." She admonishes softly, although we all can hear the threat in her voice. She draws back, her hand balled into a fist. She tries to punch him in the stomach. By the seemly easy way Mr. Solomon catches it, I can tell she didn't use half of her full force.

"You could have hit harder." He has the nerve to tease as she turns to walk away.

"As if you could have handled it." She delivers deftly, coming over to me; my hand unlatching from Zach's as she hugs me close. "Well done, Cammie." She whispers caressing my hair. I nod into her shoulder as she lets go and we all turn back to watch Mr. Solomon and my Mom.

Now it's Mr. Solomon who approaches her, her hands still crossed as he comes near her. His hand reaches out as if to caress her cheek but she turns her head into her shoulder, like a petulant-five year old would.

"Rachel," he calls her, stepping forward as my mother takes a step back and beside me, Zach draws his hand around my waist, pulling me close.

Mr. Solomon's hands falls by his side, he lets out his breath.

"I'm sorry," He whispers, not elaborating on the apology. I feel Zach tense yet again, and as stated before I don't like seeing Mr. Solomon not in control of the situation, and I'm sure neither does Zach, but for me it changes when my Mom is the one in charge.

"For what?" she asks, still not turning to look at him. I look at Aunt Abby and see that she's enjoying this. Mr. Solomon buries his hands in his face, and for a millisecond I can see he's hurting physically as well as emotionally.

He looks up, "Please look at me." He pleads and my mom slowly turns her head to regard him expectantly.

"Forgive me. I'm sorry. Sorry for every darn mistake I've made that has affected you; starting by getting Matt into this crazy goose chase. Forgive me for allowing myself to share my most burdening secret."

I heard Abby's gentle intake of breath as we both realize what he was doing. He is asking for forgiveness alright, but he is injecting it with enough venom in his apology to make my mother feel sorry for making him do so. Yet, he goes on.

"Also forgive me for coming back into your life. I should have broken the promise I made to Matt. You were okay, Cammie, "He glances at me, and I barely notice the apology in his eyes, "She would have been fine without my guidance. It was foolish of me to ask for a job here when the pain from his disappearance was starting to heal. It was foolish of me not to tell you about my life in the Circle. Forgive me for it, and forgive me for wanting Cammie to know the truth.

I assure you, it's over. I'm done hurting you. I'm done messing with your family, and that's why I'm quitting this job. As soon as Dr. Anders gives me clearance, I'm leaving you for good."

He finished and had it not been for years of training, my mouth would be hanging open. My mother continued staring at him, her faced bare of any emotion. If he had expected a welcome-back hug, he wasn't getting it now.

My mom nodded. "Thank you, I expect your resignation letter in my desk by morning. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to attend to. Zach please direct him to his new temporary chambers. Abby, if you would rig up the mines again, I'd appreciate it greatly. Cameron, help her with it and I wish to speak to you before you go to bed."

She turns to walk away, not turning as she called "And Joseph, you do not need to apologize for keeping a promise to Matt." Placing herself as the better person in this game of pride.

I watch her walk away, Zach lets go of my waist, still not moving towards him. Mr. Solomon crosses his arms, waiting for Abby and I to complete our task. I shake my head, and he notices, but doesn't move.

"Just a warning Cammie," my Aunt speaks up enough for the four of us to hear, "That's your standard Blackthorne apology, and that's if you even get one." She tells me and Zach turns to glare her. Abby just shrugs as she makes her way to the detonator control, the 'it's true' implied.

Zach looks into my eyes "Gallagher Girl, I-"He tries to tell me but words fail him, I shake my head slightly at him, no need to make promise he possibly wouldn't keep. "Forget it, we'll see when the time comes, now take Mr. Solomon inside, make him get some rest, he's exhausted." I tell him moving away from him, towards my Aunt Abby. I he pauses, still looking at me. "Go," I tell him "before he vanishes again."


	8. Making Things Right

**A/N : An apology for the lack of updating, no excuse here, the story is already written. The only things I need to upload chapters is A) final editing, and B) Incentives, which take the form of reviews. I hope you had a great Valentines day, and that you enjoy reading this chapter. **

I enter my mom's office without knocking, our task finished without difficulties. My mom is nowhere inside, but I can hear the faint shot of a rifle, giving away her position at the shooting range below her office. I go to her to her desk, and extract ear plugs and two lip sticks from it. After placing both ear plugs in place I then point one of the lip stick's laser beam to the sensor by the book case. A mini elevator emerges from the left part of the shelves.

I approach the shooting range, my mom deaf to my steps by the protecting ear gear. She is shooting constantly at three flying targets. I stop myself from giggling at the newly added one, the face of Mr. Solomon, besides it the target with more bullet holes is the one that contains Mrs. Goode, followed by the Logo of the Circle.

I quickly place on appropriate gear and stand on the booth besides my mom, seeing as she is still oblivious to me. I point my rifle unto the moving targets and neatly puncture the Blackthorne logo in the middle several times, and for good measure, drive a bullet through Mr. Solomon's heart. It's then that my mom notices me and proceeds to unload her fire arm and I do the same taking my ear plugs, earmuffs and goggles off.

"That didn't go well." I tell her as if she hasn't noticed but one of us had to voice it.

She shakes her head "He didn't have a Madame Dabney; he was never taught how to apologize." She tells me, defending his actions. Although technically speaking, there's no need to teach professional assasins the art of apologizing. I give a shrug "He could have tried harder not to show it." I say blatantly as we busy ourselves with setting things back in order, my mom switching on the smoke ventilator.

As I tear the image of him from the hanger I wonder how much Mr. Solomon is willing to lose for his pride. I silently watch as mom takes down the other target posters. I hand him Mr. Solomon's and watch as she neatly rips them down the middle. I toss her the second lipstick, and she proceeds to set them on fire and we just stand there, watching them burn, twisting into themselves and shriveling up

"He was raised to be a killer, Cameron." She reminds me and although I don't think that's enough of an excuse I nod, realizing that if it were me in her shoes, I'd also try to defend Zach.

I just look at her and she looks back, her face softening, "Zach, did get Madame Dabney, and a bad example too, sweetie, he won't mess up. Actually, I'm pretty sure Zia raised him to be a gentleman." She tells me and we shudder at the irony of that, and I also wonder if the Acedmy used to teach mind reading.

I nod, watching as she stomps out the fire, having taken her anger out at Mr. Solomon.

"He's not okay, is he?" my mom questions, changing the subject, her eyes gazing into mine, her face sporting a slight frown.

I shake my head, "Of course not. That was all for show, he shouldn't even be walking." I tell her and see as her frown deepens.

"Then how come he didn't stay at Langley, Cameron?" she questions, but we both know the answer.

"He wanted to come home, the doctors tried to stop him, but he-he's Joe Solomon, so they just managed to do the brain scans and made him promise to abide by Dr. Anders' instructions."

My mom nods, "I'll make sure he does." She tells me and I can't stop myself from teasing.

"You are not his boss anymore." I tell her turning off the smoke ventilator.

My mom smiles, a mischievous glint in her eye as she tells me "We'll see if he has the nerve to write that letter."

I nod, "Anything specific you wanted to talk to me about?" I ask her and she nods and motions for me to follow her back into her office.

I take a sit on the couch and turn to face her as she takes a sit in front of me and hands me a cinnamon roll from the platter on the small table between us.

"Cammie, now that Joe's back, I was wondering if you would like to join Bex for the remainder of the summer vacations?" she asks me, breaking her roll in half and taking a bite out of it.

Her suggestion catches me by surprise. I quickly shake my head and she raises and eyebrow at me, in question.

"No, I-I am okay here." I tell her, panic seeping into my voice, because I was still planning on leaving before classes' came into session an if I was shipped to another continent my current plans for leaving would be more than messed up.

My mom sighs "Come one sweetheart, it'll be good for you getting out of here, even if it's for a little while." She tells me.

"No, really, I'm okay with staying here a few more weeks. There's always next break to take a vacation." I reply and she nods, accepting that for an excuse.

She sighs "It's almost two, go to bed kiddo." She tells me coming over to kiss my fore head. "Good night, be sure to sleep in, you deserve it." She tells me, as I exit her office.

* * *

><p>"I can take it from here" I tell Zach, who has been helping my support, my weight on our way to my room. (In which I greatly regretted installing a bloody climbing rope to get to my room…the fire pole, to descend, not so much.)<p>

I let go of Zach and almost immediately topple over from the added weight on my weak legs. Zachary moves quickly to support me and guide me to my bed. I sigh, looking up to him; he shakes his head, not wanting to hear the thanks I don't want to utter.

"I really messed it up, didn't I?" I ask him, a shudder of exhaustion running through my back. Zach plops himself on the nearby chaise lounge and turns to look at me.

"By 'messed up' do you mean with Rachel or with that?" his chin points to me and I turn to see a fading scar along my arm.

"If you mean with Rachel, then yeah, you messed it up _big time_, if you mean that, well that was my fault." He tells me and I realize he blames himself for what happened to me, which I don't. The only thing I do hold against him is the fact that Cammie was there, but we all know Gallagher Girls have a way of getting things done their way but we also know Blackthorne Boys shouldn't fall for it.

"What was Cameron doing there? How did she even get out of Gallagher?" I ask him, anger at the whole situation seeping into my voice.

"We were going for this" He says showing me a battered old notebook that was hidden in his jacket.

"And you sneaked out of the Academy and drove all the way to Blackthorne, "I guess, "what the hell was Rachel doing? Or Cammie's so called 24/7 security team?" I ask him, expecting him to tell me they knocked her out and locked her in the subs, and then tell me how they seeped a sleeping medicine into the team's coffee before leaving, but instead, he chuckles.

"Rachel sort of took us to Blackthorne." He informs me and the information takes me aback, I feel my eyes widen slightly.

"Cammie's Jr. security Entourage was also there, along with Abby and the Baxters." He adds, and I chuckle lightly at the way he's referring to Cammie's friends.

"And after you got it why didn't you get the hell out of there?" I ask him, my voice reduced to a rough whisper.

"I won't even answer that one, Solomon." He tells me and I just stare at him, grateful for his undying loyalty, for his friendship.

"You should have gotten out the moment you saw me. You knew my plan as soon as you saw me." I tell him nonetheless and he shakes his head.

"I wasn't going to let you go down alone, and without a fight." He states and I shake my head, my mind calling up the torturous hours in which it was convince I had lost him. All of a sudden I can't look at him anymore so I lower my eyesight to the ground.

"I thought I lost you Zach, you don't know how hard it was for me to even think about not having you anymore." I let him know, and I feel him take a seat next to me, but I still don't turn to face him.

"Don't you think I felt the same?" he questions, anger prominent in his voice. "Don't you realize how difficult it was to watch you fade away, to think that you would never wake up?" he tells me, and for the first time, I hear a whisper of vulnerability in his voice as he draws in a long breath. "I thought I had lost the only person who knew how it felt like to be an outsider in the only place where you belonged." He says, and I finally turn to look at him, see the telltale signs of suppressed emotion in his red eyes and the way he hold his hands in tight fists. I look into his eyes, and realize that if I'm gonna do anything right tonight, it's apologize to him.

"I apologize." I say simply and he shakes his head. "Whatever," he says, standing up and starting to walk backwards to the door, "it's not like either of us won't race to stand between Cammie and the next danger that finds her." He tells me and there's no point denying it. I did it once, and I'd do it a hundred times over, no one was going to hurt Matt's daughter under my watch, but no one was going to hurt Zach either.

"Zach," I say, my voice firm, making him stop, he looks at me expectantly. "Next time, I want you to run, promise me you'll run." I ask from him and he shakes his head.

"I will not do such thing." He says, staring down at me, now holding the door. He lets out a sight, "You are tire, Joe, give it a rest." He finally commands turning to open the door.

I let him go without another word, because we both know it is pointless to argue. "I'll be back at noon to help you pack, "He tells me turning to see me and I nod hearing the unsaid words 'you have all morning to make it right.' I nod, and he turns to walk from the room turning of the lights, and not much time passes before I drift into a dreamless sleep.


	9. Flutter of Hope

I wake up five minutes before my alarm clock goes off at 6:05. I sigh, hitting the _off_ button as I fight to gather the strength needed to get out of bed, which is especially hard this morning knowing I'll encounter that resignation letter in my desk. For a moment there, I thought he'd make his apology short and simple, that I'd forgive him and embrace him. But that didn't happen. Men like Joe are trained to resist routine and deliver the unexpected. And I, for once, had not been expecting the unexpected.

I sigh in frustration. What was I willing to lose for my pride? I asked myself and realized that it was much less than Joe would. True, he had hurt me; he had lied to me, deceived me, and hidden a secret that endangered all the people I loved. But he had also tried to protect Matt at all costs, he had made sure Cammie and I where well taken care of and provided for. He had quitted his job at the CIA to come train Cammie the way Matt would have wanted her to be trained. And somehow he had managed to keep her safe for so long.

Perhaps I could swallow my pride for once, forgive, forget and move on. What other option did I have? Letting go of him? Breaking my heart again? No. The first time had been painful enough. The first time was still aching. I took a deep breath. I wouldn't allow myself to lose Joe without a fight. I had already lost Matt thanks to the Circle; I wasn't going to lose Joe because of them, too.

I quickly go through the motions of getting ready, my mind prepared to face him, chase him, declare my love for him through the airport speakers if necessary. I have to make things right if I expect to live with myself for much longer. No, I wouldn't beg him, but I wouldn't play hard to get either, I was just going to make things okay.

* * *

><p>I walk to my office, having no idea of what would happen next. My mind raced with all the possibilities. Would I call him over to my office? Look for him? Or do the whole racing-to-the-airport scenario? - In that case, perhaps giving them a fake bomb threat would help me gain time.<p>

I walk into the office, and make my way to the desk, where I spot the neat, white envelope poised on top of my papers. _Headmistress Morgan _is addressed on the envelope_._ I lift the envelope carefully, part of me already expecting the formal words of resignation. But really, I just wish to rip it and go for Joe, but I don't. Instead I open the unsealed flap and get out a neatly tri-folded paper. I notice the lack of ink & quickly unfold it. My heart accelerates at spotting the three neatly printed words located in the middle.

_Please forgive me. _

They spelled out plainly. I feel my breath catch in my throat as tears spring into my eyes. "Joe," his name falls from my mouth before I'm able to stop it. Fear of losing him again grips at my heart.

"Rachel, I'm sorry." I hear his soft voice whisper as I turn to find him leaning against the door. My fear subsides as I take a moment to study him. I notice how he's leaning slightly too much onto the door, and the heavy, laborious-looking rise and fall of his chest, making it seem like every breathe causes pain. I travel up into his gaunt face, and his sunken eyes, and finally look into his tortured, but beautiful green eyes staring back into mine.

I slowly place the letter back on the desk and walk toward him, slowly, cautiously, as if approaching an injured animal. His arms rise in surrender as I approach.

"Please forgive me. For all that I mentioned yesterday and excuse the way I said it." He pleads, outstretching his hand toward me, for me to take, and so I let him pull me to him, to hold me close.

"Why?" I whisper softly into his shoulder.

I feel him shake his head. "I-I was a complete git." He tells me for lack of a better excuse. I shake my head slightly, snuggling into the croon of his neck as he wraps both of his arms around me. "No, why lie to me? Why keep your double life a secret from the only person it would affect?" I question, my voice raised, and edge of annoyance detectable.

"So that it wouldn't affect you." He answers simply, but something in his voice doesn't sound right.

"Liar." I call on him, detaching myself slightly to look him in the eye.

"Right. I was going to tell you. But every single one of the million opportunities I had, I let them slip by because I was afraid. Afraid of the look of betrayal, of _disgust_, that would've crossed your eyes if I did." He tells me shaking his head slightly as if to clear his mind from an image.

"I would have understood." I tell him softly, almost inaudibly.

" By the time I realized that, it was too late." He tells me, bringing me back to him and kissing my forehead. In the proximity to his chest I can actually feel the effort it takes him to stand up for so long. I'm about to step away, but he beats me to it.

"Come here," he says, whisking me into the couch, setting me down next to him and pulling me close. I let my face bury into his chest, my arms locking around his neck, his arms holding me strongly to his side. I feel him softly kiss the top of my head and I can't hold it anymore, so without my permission, tears start falling down and gentle sobs take over my body.

He holds me for a while, pecking my head with kisses, and tracing soft circles across my back. Neither of us speaks, not for a long time, not even after my sobs subside. I let him hold me close, his cheek leaned on my head, our hearts beating as one, none of us wanting this moment to end, nor finding the right words to proceed.

Suddenly I feel Joe kiss my ear. "I love you." He whispers softly, and I turn to meet his deep green eyes. I shake my head almost imperceptible, still not being able to say the words back. Guilt comes at me again, as it often did this past year whenever I caught myself staring at Joe, talking to him in anything but a professional tone, and specially that night where I let myself dance the night away in his arms…on Matthew's birthday. I'm still battling to let go, and I know Joe is too. I loved Matthew fully, ardently, irrevocably, and for a long time, I thought I'd do so… _**forever**_. I let a sigh escape and Joe does too.

"I missed you." I manage to say, as I feel the spell break. My hands unlatch from around his neck, and I start getting up. He reaches for my hands, pulling me down again, his face coming to a stop mere inches from mine. He searches my eyes, and I find myself lost in his and for once, my guilt-ridden conscience doesn't make itself hear.

"That's enough, you'll see" He tells me softly, as he gently grab my chin, and he leans down, looking into my eyes, for permission I incoherently grant. He moves closer, his lips meeting mine. The kiss is gentle yet urgent, infused it with the intangibility, and frailty of our relationship. My head spins with the crazed, deprived love I have towards him and I know, as it slows down, that I can't bring myself to regret this, and that one moment of clarity is enough to realize that forever doesn't ever last.

He gently lets go; now it is he who makes a move to stand. "No," I say, preventing him from getting up. "It's not enough, it won't ever be enough. I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting. I fought so hard to let go of Mathew, and I've been fighting so much this past weeks to let go of you." I tell him, pausing to look at him and see that the fire I've achingly missed has returned to his eyes. "The first battle's over and I don't know if I can win the second one." I tell him, and despite the break in my voice I finally admit "I do not _want_ to win the second one." _'I don't want to let go of you.'_ are the words left unspoken.

It seems as if ever since he came back into my life, he's been gluing the pieces of my broken heart back together, and even though it's not perfect, it can still love. "I love you, Joe" I let the words fall without trying to stop them. He draws me close to him, his lips plant a kiss on the side of my head. The words "I love you more," seem almost habitual as he speaks them, and my heart gives a flutter of hope.

**I hope you enjoyed this little chapter. Thanks to each and every one of you who has favorited, alerted and especially reviewed this story so far, I really appreciate it. If you feel like I'm lagging in updating don't hesitate in dropping me a message. Pax et Bonum!**


	10. How Long Before it is Too Late?

_Cammie's Pov:_

_I see myself running toward the mansion, and notice something's off, the mansion is deserted, and I just feel something's wrong._

_I dash in, and become blinded in the abysmal darkness. For a moment I'm paralyzed, unable to move until the emergency lights start to emit their soft glow. My heart accelerates, and adrenaline is now what keeps me moving. _

"_Mom!" I scream into the main hall, look in her office, wait for an answer but silence is my only reply. "Zach!" I shout into the East Wing, try the door but it's locked. I knock on it but there's no response. My legs automatically move towards my room, I go in, it's deserted, yet I can't stop myself from shouting the names of my best friends into the void._

_My last hope is Mr. Solomon. I quickly sprint to the bottom of the rope. My legs cant' seem to carry me fast enough, but I make it. I tap on the door but it's close, "Mr. Solomon!" I shout in exasperation, and of course there's no answer._

_I hear the speakers' static turn on, "It's too late Morgan, it's over," sounds a cold, female voice from the speakers._

"_No." the whisper falls from my lips before I can stop it. No._

_It's her voice, the voice that has haunted my dreams for so long._

"_Cammie dear, no need to make this any harder, please come to sublevel 1 and turn yourself over." It commands._

"_You have exactly 5 minutes to get here, and believe me, you will regret it if you don't." it tells me softly before I hear the system go off, and the crackling stop. _

_Fear seizes my heart, if I were a normal girl it'd paralyze me, but a Gallagher Girl can never afford such a reaction._

_I feel as my heart shuts down, protecting itself from heart break, I get ahold of the fire pole and use it for a few moments to support my weight, before sighing in resignation taking the leap down. I walk slowly, a foot in front of the other, sealing my heart away as I go. She has them, there's no doubt of it, and there's no point in defying her at this point. I have nothing on her now, and she, she has everything I care for._

_I get to the mirror and start on my way down with 2:03 minutes left. I become impatient at the slow pace of the elevator, thinking it'll be too late, a second or to, but late nonetheless. Finally I step into sublevel 1. My internal clock stops at 27.5 seconds._

"_Thought we'd had to kill them and haunt you down." Zia greets me. I look around me and sure enough they are here, my heart fights against it seal, for a moment emotion threatens to break me, my throat starts to tighten, but I fight back, and force myself to meet their eyes. _

_Mr. Solomon and Mom are both on their knees, hands tied to their back, feet lock behind them and each with a gun barrel upon their temple. I see their eyes widen in terror, but their taped mouths make it impossible for them to tell me to run. I see Mr. Solomon close his eyes; his body loses the stiffness, his body sags. H has given up. I turn my eyes to Zia, wondering where her son is, but not able to care now, because I know that he is safe, and that there's no way Zia will allow him anywhere near this danger._

"_Get her." The words are out._

"_No!" I shout No. no. no!_

* * *

><p>"Cammie! Cammie, wake up, it's okay. It's okay"<p>

I open my eyes, to look into Zach's perfect dark eyes staring back at me in concern. I sit up on my bed and he seats beside me, his arms opening in invitation.

"Gallagher Girl, it's okay." He repeats, as I lean into his warm embrace.

I concentrated on slowing my heart rate, and evening my breaths. I shake my head into his shoulder. "It's not okay, It can't be while I'm still here." I tell him, but don't say anything else.

"Never mind that, you are safe here." He tells me, pulling away from me, and I nod just to appease him, but really my mind is telling me to run, I have to leave before they find me, I have to leave before they get the chance to hurt me. I have to leave soon.

"Let's go for a walk." Zach distracts me, standing up and offering me his hand.

We walk outside the mansion in silence. I see a smile playing on Zach's lips due to the fact that I'm in my very comfortable pajamas. I linger for a moment at the foot of the woods, afraid of detonating on of the bombs imbedded in every meter of them, but Zach reassuringly squeezes my hand telling me that he's not that stupid.

I fall into step with him and gently breathe in the fresh air of the woods. I let a long sigh escape.

"Slow summer?" Zach asks, hiding his smile.

"By Gallagher standards…very. For me, it's no different than Nebraska." I tell him softly.

He nods, chuckling softly.

"It has been a pretty bleak summer for me, "he tells me letting go of my hand to pull me by the waist.

"You can always leave." I feel obliged to remind him, 'like me' quips that pesky voice that a spy can't afford having.

He stops. "Really?" he asks incredulously, raising his eyebrows at me.

I roll my eyes, as he starts backing me against a tree. "Leave, Gallagher Girl, Leave with me." He tells me in a mock sexy voice.

"I can't" I answer simply, not wanting to play games today, or lie to his face in what might be the last time I see him.

"Why not?" He asks. Placing his hands at either side of me, his head lowering so that he can see me straight in the eyes.

I hesitate. What can I say? "I just can't." I tell him and see as he sends a scathing look in the direction of the mansion.

"Let's leave, Cammie, let's run, let's _forget_." He offers, and it tempts me so much to say yes, but I can't. Mr. Solomon will need him when I'm gone.

"Zach, I won't leave, I won't betray Solomon like that. I'm okay here, I'm safe." I say throwing back the words he used to comfort me. I will leave, I will betray Mr. Solomon, and I'm not safe anywhere, but if I want the ones I love to be, I have to making him believe that I have complete faith in these lies.

"You're right, " he says letting his arms drop, I know a comment that will guilt trip me is about to leave his mouth, but the moment he turns to walk away, my eyes land in the motionless body of Mr. Solomon a few yards away.

"No!" the shout escapes me as I shove Zach to the side, making my way to Mr. Solomon. Zach turns to catch up with me.

"Damn it, Joe." He breathes as I fling myself to his side. My hearts skips a bit as I touch his ice cold skin. Zach grabs his wrist as I press my hand against his emaciated chest.

"Barely there." Zach whispers, but I can't feel any relieve when I fail to notice any signs of breathing. My CPR classes I took in 7th grade kick in. I quickly make sure that nothing is obstructing his airways, and block everything from my mind that's not the task at hand. I take in a deep breath and dive in to breathe life back into Mr. Solomon.

The thought of kissing my sexy CoveOps instructor (who is possibly my mom's beau) is a much more pleasant thought to entertain than the ones cause by the fear I can't allow myself to feel.

After no more than a minute, I stop to check if he's breathing. Which he is. I turn to look at Zach who quickly meets my eyes.

"Run Cammie." He tells me before adrenalin is pumping my body forward and I'm racing back to the mansion. I hear the pounding of my steps and the beating of my heart as I race to the place I never seem to leave.

I'm about to barge into Dr. Anders' office when two voices reach me.

"I'm thinking about making the move in two weeks' time, Gary." I hear my mom tell him," I'm leaving tonight; I must keep them out of here, and I need new information about their workings." My mom discloses, and knowing Mr. Solomon is stable I wait to hear the information I might otherwise not know.

"I'd like for Joe, to accompany Cammie into hiding, will he get clearance by then?" she asks, and there's just that little rule of don't get caught that prevents me from barging in in hysterics.

"I'm sure that if he keeps in good health, he will be, if not Rachel I'll ask you to either let him here or postpone her move for a few weeks, if possible, of course," is Dr. Anders' reply, and thankfully, the 'move' will now have to be postpone, and hopefully, it won't come about.

I work myself up to the level of exasperation I was in before stopping to eavesdrop. "Dr. Anders!" my words echo off the walls as I enter the infirmary.

"Cameron?"

"Cammie?" the two acknowledge me and by their look of surprise I see I haven't blown my cover.

"Cameron- what happened?" my mom asks, but I dare only look at Dr. Anders as I answer.

"Joe passed out, on the woods. Zach's with him" I manage to puff out convincingly.

Neither hesitates in getting into action, with my mom snatching up the stretcher and Dr. Anders getting out the portable oxygen machine, my mom's face not betraying a glimmer of worry as I lead them back into the woods.

"He wasn't breathing" I inform them as we near the site where I left them, and it is only now that my mom lets a flicker of anxiety pass through her eyes.

Zach stands up from the ground as we arrive, "Breathing, weak pulse, sprained ankle, damaged wrist & possible concussion." He recites, nodding to mom and Dr. Anders in greeting.

I help mom place the stretcher on the ground as Dr. Anders move to examine Mr. Solomon for himself, and Zach takes the oxygen machine from me, I quickly move to ease the mask onto Mr. Solomon's face.

"Excellent diagnosis, Mr. Goode, now if you will help me." says Dr. Anders, putting away his stethoscope and waving towards Mr. Solomon.

I watch as he and Zach lift Mr. Solomon into the stretcher and mom gets the oxygen flow going.

Soon, Mom and Dr. Anders are making their way back to the infirmary. Zach and I linger for a moment, lagging behind them.

"We could have been too late." He whispers, as we realize what Mr. Solomon means when he advises us _never_ to let our guard down.

"'Could have' does not exist in our world" I tell him simply, but really, how much time is left until it is too late for me to leave? How much longer will I pretend it is all okay? How much longer until I have to admit _I could have saved them?_

Not much. Not at all.

**AN: I'm thinking about changing the name of the story. Yes? No? Any suggestions? Please let me know on your review. Thanks for reading. I hoped you enjoyed it**


	11. Time to Run

I trudge out of the hospital room, leaving Mr. Solomon sleeping under the influence of drugs.I exit the infirmary; go up the stairs and into the main hall. All along silence is the only thing I hear. The Gallagher Mansion has fallen into its midsummer slumber and it's not long before the alarm goes off, and by then I have to be out of here, I have to leave now.

And fortunately, _now_ seems like the perfect time to leave. Mom is halfway around the world, having left just after making sure would survive. Zach is completely trusting of my word and Mr. Solomon is in no shape to pull off a James Bond. Now is the time to get it right or else I place everything in peril; My family, my friends, my sisterhood, and least of all, my life. I make my way to my suite and lock myself in. My mind is made up. I have some packing to do.

* * *

><p>In no time I have everything I'll need laid out in our bathroom vanity. I'm carrying with me is what a normal teenage girl would pack for a week at summer camp plus what a normal spy-in-training would pack for an undisclosed mission.<p>

I have 6 simple changes, the pants and shirts all reversible. Three pairs of shoes, all of them serve more than the common functionality (plus nearly 2 thousand dollars within each sole).

My makeup bag is bursting with foundation in every color, lipsticks that are for everything but adding color to my lips (my favorite being mom's patented three-shot pistol). Boxes of hair dye and napotine patches take up a large amount of my luggage, and there's a small bag full of contact lenses in every eye color (plus several with nocturne vision).

I carefully hide the passports I have secretly forged inside my folded clothes. I tuck the emergency food packs in, too. In the satchel across my body, I carry snacks, a nail clipper and polish (of course-for emergency makeovers), my notebook (though that's not coming with me), Liz's prototype ultra-slick laptop, and the keys to her van; the van that's taking me out of here.

I sigh, feeling the weight of the high treason I'll commit tonight. Using Liz, though indirectly, is stooping to an all-time low. But she'll forgive me, as I'm certain everyone else will, and that only makes me feel worse. Bex, Liz and Macey will probably have to deal with CIA operatives this summer, and that's the reason why I left them out of this, they are safer that way. As terrible as it is to betray their trust, I have to do this. I have to find answers. I have to discover what happen to dad and I have to run because time is running out.

It's past 1:00 am when I finish packing. The next guarding shift doesn't start until 5, and the guard team has been so careless as to fall into routine. They'll drink tea at 3, and by 3:05 I'll be slipping through the gates, out unto the adjacent garage, and out of here, but in the mean time I have things to do.

It takes time, but finally I'm able to smuggle my luggage into the Pigeon Room without being noticed. I take time in hiding my luggage, just in case someone barges in. I turn to the board. I notice the words of my father's code and know it's up to me to bring his story to an end. I take a seat in the overturned crate where not so long ago I was trying to piece together this puzzle. So much has changed since then, but somehow life always manages to come back to full cycle. Soon I'll be on the run, and now it'll be Mr. Solomon who will puzzle over me, my motives, my whereabouts.

I pull out my Covert Operations Report, and set to write my last letter. The words from his letter come back to me. The pain of reading them for the first time reappears as I write mine to him. Every 'I' I dot and sentence I end tells me that he doesn't deserve this, but I can't think of it now, I can't let anything stop me now. 'It's better than a letter of permission to disconnect his life support.' A voice in my mind tells me, but rather than comfort me, it makes me cringe, and the fact that I'm thinking of whether that would have been easier bothers me. I quickly finish the letter and tear the page off. I place the notebook down on the crate, and place the letter on top.

I move to the board and slowly erase the runes he wrote and replace it with my last apology. I get my luggage, turn to the door, and turn off the lights, hoping that when it becomes obvious I'm not in the mansion; this will be the first place Mr. Solomon will come to look for clues.

Tonight starts the guessing game for us all. I'll be guessing where to start and where to look, the ones I leave behind will be guessing about my whereabouts, while the Circle tries to decipher my next move. As long as I keep it running smooth, no one will guess correctly. After all, I'm Cammie 'TheChameleon' Morgan, my father's daugther.


	12. Someone Has To Tell Rachel

Dr. Anders finally discharges me from the infirmary after a 5 minutes speech of taking care of myself and my rehabilitating body-In which I tuned him off after, 'Alright Joe, you may leave but remember yadda, yadda, yadda…' and after that the only part I caught was the part where he threaten to shackle me to a wheel chair next time. Thanks Doc. It took all my will power not to roll my eyes like a teenage. It's getting to me, teaching them.

As soon as I'm out of ear shot I break into a jog, in a hurry to find out were Rachel has gone to. I stop in my tracks when I see Zach in the hall, his face noticeably troubled.

"What's the matter?" I ask catching him by surprise. He looks at me, debating for a millisecond about whether or not to lie. He sighs, "I can't find Cameron." He confesses.

"What do you mean you can't find Cammie?" I ask him, surely she must be somewhere in hiding.

"I just haven't seen her in all morning, and I've been looking for a while now, she doesn't seem to be anywhere." He tells me and I see he's trying not to sound overly-concerned and I find myself wondering if we should be, after all she's the Chameleon, and if I've learned anything about teenage girls is that they relish in their time alone.

I find myself gearing into high-alert. Zach is worried, and Cam didn't stop by this morning as apparently she always did when I was unconscious.

"Have you checked the girls' common room? Her dorm?" I ask and Zach nods them off.

"The Library, Kitchen, Labs" I list and Zach automatically checks them off, too.

"There's the Pigeon room," he says, unconvinced she'd be there which, she probably wouldn't be now.

"Never mind that, no lights, no cooling system, not the best place for hiding or working." I tell him, realizing there are no other options but just the also unlikely subs. "Alert the guards, I'll check the subs." I tell him and he nods before sprinting in the other direction and despite what the doctor just told me, I do the same in the other direction.

I get to the student entrance of the subs, and ditch the elevator for the slide hidden by the vent besides the mirror. A quick survey of the floor tells me she's not here.

I listen for the alarms and the lockdown to begin, telling me to get out of here, bringing news that comes too late, but they don't so instead I just wait for Zachary to get here and help me into sub 2.

I become aware of Zach descending the stairs minutes before I expect him, the alarms still off.

"The guards were asleep." He tells me getting a soppy tea bag out of his pocket. I take the wet bag into my hand and bring it to my nose, take in a light sniff. I recognize it at once as Mrs. Baxters Homemade Knockout Tea. "Cam did this." I announce what we already knew, but somehow admitting to the fact that she didn't disappear involuntarily brings no comfort.

"Zach, call Patricia. Tell her to send for Rachel immediately. Be sure to convey the urgency of the situation but don't tell her just yet. I'll call Abigail, and the idiotic head guard, into the Headmistress office. We have a search to begin." I command, and see him dart out of the door.

I stash the bag into my pocket, but not before the string detaches from bag. I pull it out and bring it closer to my eyes, seeing the two hand written words sthat have been smudged my the wetness, yet they're still legible.

_Promise Me._

'_Promise Me'_ they read. _Promise me._ The words take me back in time; the memory shoots sharp in my mind. London's cold winter chill, the bridge, the river below me, my arms around Cammie and my eyes meeting her frighten ones.

"Promise me Cammie! Promise me you'll follow the Pigeons."

The Pigeons. Of course, not the ideal hiding place, but perfect for leaving clues behind. I'm about to set off running, but I'd be of no help unconscious. So I slowly make my way to the carrier place, regretting the sprint earlier, because by the time I get there my breathing is erratic and dots swarmed in front of my eyes, yet I forced my body to keep moving. I finally make it to the entrance, but the dizziness makes it impossible for me to continue without resting against the doorframe for a few good minutes, trying to calm my hitching breath and fighting the fatigue, hating myself for being so weak. It takes time but I finally gather the strength to go on. I go inside and turn on the camp lamp we keep in here. In the soft glow of the lamp, the board greets me, and I notice the language I replicated for Cammie has been erased, faded into nothingness. Then I notice the words that have taken its place in the erased mess

"Please forgive me." They plead and the small arrow pointing down leads my gaze to a white envelope place neatly atop of a notebook. My whole body feels heavy as I move to take these two things, and take a seat on the crate they were placed in and start reading.

_For Joe Solomon_ the envelope is addressed. I tear it open. My heart growing heavier at every line.

_Dear Mr. Solomon,_

_If you are reading this, I must be gone. I know I should apologize for leaving, but I won't, because I'm not sorry._

_As a Gallagher Girl, I cannot allow myself to put my loved ones in danger by my presence. And as a daughter, I just have to do this._

_I will look for answers, I'll take a chance, because this is worth the risk, but, rest assured that I have not taken this lightly; I just waited a little bit more to make sure you'd be alright. Please do not make the mistake of underestimating a Gallagher Girl, because they won't._

_Beside this, is my CoveOps journal of this past semester, they were probably the scariest months of my young life. I leave it for you so that you can know how important this is for me, and how much I care about the people who surround me._

_Everything I learned, I carry with me, the ones I love remain in my heart and I just ask you to please keep them safe. Keep Mom and Abby safe. Keep Zach safe and please keep Bex, Liz and Macey safe and prepare them for this life._

_So sorry,_

_-Cammie Morgan_

My mind can't believe what my eyes are reading. She planned it all; she had been planning it all along. I close my eyes against the pain it causes my heart, The nerve and idiocy of her to do that remind me too much of Matt and the letter tells me I have yet again failed to protect one of the few persons I care for.

I fold the letter and tuck it away, my body feeling weak as I get up. I take a deep breath, feeling my heart go numb as I realize that someone has to tell Rachel.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope you had a great Gallagher Girls Day, and hopefully you are already reading Out of Sight Out of Time. Do you think the wait was worth it? Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you.<strong>


	13. The Right Gallagher Girl

I walk by Zach into Rachel's office, having called a meeting with her, Abby and Donley -the man who calls himself Head of Security. Zach stares quietly at me assessing the way I walk and carry myself. He motions to the leather couch but instead I take a stand by the desk. He lets a sigh escape at my stubbornness. Before he can say anything Abby walks in and she doesn't look happy.

"Where's the incompetent that lost my niece?" She demands as she stalks into the room. To ease the mood I raise my hand in a mock attempt at sheepishness (as if I could ever pull off sheepishness quite right). She casts a look at me, a smile creeping into her face.

"The other one." She clarifies, stepping over to greet me with a peck in the cheek, and despite myself I chuckle lightly. She walks over to Zach. "Hey kid," she calls him, tousling his hair and Zach makes me proud by taking it silently and not retaliating.

"There's the other one," Zach whispers to her as Donley makes his appearance. I see Abby flash him a quick smile, as Donley walks in and nods to each of us in form of greeting.

"And Rachel is…?" Abby asks, leaving the question hanging, while looking around in a mock scanning of the room.

"Not here yet, and when she comes, you are to remain quiet." I tell her and her eyes widen in understanding.

"She doesn't know." She states.

"Yet," I reply and her face contorts into a devilish smile.

"I'm not telling her." She informs me, which is a moot point since there's no question of who will.

I just shake my head and we resume waiting in silence until we catch the tap of her heels against the old wooden floor.

"What's wrong?" Rachel voice carries in before she steps inside. She's fuming. "Solomon better be conscious or I'll personally shackle him to his bed." She threatens but is cut off by the sight of me…and the absence of Cammie.

"Where's Cammie?" she wants to know, and for a moment the room slips back into silence.

I quickly move to her, take her hand and hold it for a second before she whisks it away.

"Where is my daughter." she asks and women like her don't ask a third time.

I let out a sigh. "We don't know." I tell her and were it not for the fact that she's aware of my weak physical state, I'm sure that a slap across the face would have come next but instead she just nods and looks at Donley.

"She ran away." She asserts, and turns her gaze back to me. I nod and get only a glimpse of uncertainty before she snaps her cover in place.

"Have you started the search? Called the airport, canceled every credit card she could have taken, voided all passports issued to her by the Agency?" she ticks of, her voice controlled and measured. Donley nods to all of them.

"Good," she says although it sounds anything but.

"Keep an eye on all the roads leading out of here, and out of Virginia, Donley," she tells him, clearly dismissing him, and he exits with another nod, closing the door behind him

Eyes dart for a few seconds before Zach voices what we all know.

"They're not going to find her. Not them. Not the Agency." He says.

"I will," I surprise myself by telling them. They look at me as if I might be out of my mind, which I may be but Cammie was my charge. Her life and safety were entrusted to me by Matt and I had to bring his daughter home.

"I'm out of here." Zach suddenly announces, and leaves, disserting me, and I can't blame him. The kid has been through a lot for me, I must deal with the lionesses on my own.

"You will not," sounds Rachel voice, cold and definite after the door closes.

"I must. I will." I tell her, looking into her dark eyes.

"You are not going Joseph. That's final." She tells me.

"Abby, tell her to let me go." I ask from her, who is watching us dispute without saying a word.

"Why? Why do you need her permission anyway? Just go. " She replies, gaining a glare from both of us. I just roll my eyes. Truth is, I already left her once and I can't do it again. I can't hurt her anymore. I promise Matt I never would.

I turn to Rachel again. Her eyes meet mine, and I see in them that the decision is final, I won't leave with her blessings, I won't leave at all, yet I had to plead once again.

"Rache, _please, _let me go find your daughter,"

"No. Joe, you are not leaving the girls and you are not leaving me. Not again." She replies, her voice soft yet firm.

_The girls_. I couldn't leave them either. Cammie made me promise and I didn't trust anyone else to train them the way I wanted them to be trained, to prepare them the way they should be. (At how things were looking now, I'd probably have to do a senior call back.)

I let out a sigh. "If I don't look for her, who will then?" I ask her in frustration.

"I will, Joe," says Abby walking over to stand behind her sister, before me.

"After all, it takes a Gallagher Girl to find another Gallagher Girl." She notifies me.

I close my eyes tight, and pinch my nose, abstaining myself from cursing in Farsi. I shake my head. I'm in no shape to look for Cammie, since I woke up, I've been prone to bouts of weakness and dizziness, and by going after her I'd only place us both in more danger. I take a deep breath and sigh.

"Fine, I just hope _the right _Gallagher Girl finds her first." I say and turn to leave the room.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sad news to deliver, but we've got only one chapter left to go, and the reason is that I trust Ally Carter to give us a much better story that I'd ever be able to write. I hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I have writing it for you.<strong>


	14. Gone

**Gone**

I now stand in front of the class, with my back to them, giving a lecture on the various targets of espionage, writing key terms on the board as I go. I have the full attention of the girls, and call on names as I go. Yet, I find that empty desk in the corner of my eye exceedingly distracting. It's been empty for almost two months. Two months, in which we have heard nothing of her and despite our best efforts and those of other intelligence agencies around the world, we haven't been able to find her. _That's because she doesn't want to be found." _ I tell to myself and pray it to be true.

She is good, _Matthew good_, but that is of little comfort at the moment, knowing (or better, _not knowing_) how Matt had ended up, doing what Cammie was now trying to do. She is as stubborn as her father.

Yet, what brought me some comfort was the fact that she had managed to stay off the grid for so long. I just hoped she could keep it that way if it made her safe. I don't think I could bear to lose yet another Morgan_. _Thinking about this I soon realized I couldn't go on with the lesson, not with my voice in danger of breaking, not in front of the girls.I catch Bex's eyes, who is surveiling me constantly. I can't go on. I stopped my incessant lecture and turned to face them.

"This is all for today ladies. Class dismissed."

Tina raises her hand, not wanting to hear the question, I replied.

"No homework either." And as the good spies-in-training they are, they don't let show how much this perplexes them. I turn before they had started to shuffle away and made a show of cleaning the board.

Then emotion overtakes me, in sudden waves of grief, my senses close out, tuning out anything that is not related to my dizzying grief. I lay my hands on my desk, fighting the impending darkness and all of a sudden I call to mind Matt's words "Seems like your only weakness is you tough exterior." He'd say, because after a while of closing myself to much emotions I'd have to break down at some point or another, and somehow, usually it was Matt who saw me at the moments in which I was at my weakest, but there was no embarrassment there, because he knew exactly what I was feeling, because he went through it too, and somehow, it was worst for him, because he had a wife and a daughter to return to. A wife and a daughter he never came back to, and now I had failed to protect that daughter.

My knees go weak -an after effect of the weeks in a coma- and I stumble into my chair and covered my face with my hands as the grief gave way to bitter tears. I'd give anything to have Cammie here and safe with me, hold her in my arms like I had done several months ago, protect her, instruct her and prepare her for the life she shouldn't be facing now. I fight to control myself, unaware of anything else until I hear her voice.

"It's going to be ok, sir," she says, her voice low but confident and I turn to see Bex standing beside my desk, I sigh, taking a deep breath, refusing to meet her eyes. How could I make such a mistake, of not closing the door? Wasn't that the reason I dismissed the class, so that the girls would see me in such a moment of weakness? There's no point denying it, so I dare meet her eyes, and see understanding and compassion in them, but still, she shouldn't be here.

"Ms. Baxter I dismissed the class." I let her know, cringing at how my voice breaks, I place my face in my hands, embarrassed and fighting the fatigue, I hear her shuffling in her bag for a moment, wondering why she doesn't leaves when I hear the tearing of paper.

"Here Sir," She offers, forcing me to look up at her and the opened bag of M&Ms in her hands. I just stare at them, still wondering why I haven't clearly asked her to leave. When she sees I don't move to grab them, she slowly grabs my hand and tilts the M&Ms unto it.

"Eat them, Sir. You need a bit of sugar,"she commands and knowing I don't really have an option, and that they'll really do me good I start to munch on them, as Rebbecca pulls over my stool and seats across me, having seeminly forgotten she is a student, and thus had other classes to attend, which I have a duty to remind her.

"Are you not getting late for your," I scrunch my eyes, trying to recall the insignificant detail that is her next class, "-for your Protection and Enforcement class?" I recall and see as she struggles to come up with and answer-an _excuse,_ the teacher in me corrects.

"Yes, but-I know my priorities." She says assertively, and something in the easy tone she uses touches me, and I'm aware I should be strong for her, but here she is, comforting me.

I look at her, at the strong young women she's today, and I recall the time when I first met her, standing in the autumn chill of London, a young girl still, but so sure of herself, so sure of the people she loved. During the plane ride, she wasn't nervous at all and she did not flirt with, me unlike almost every other girl I met here. She had an easy smile around her parents and in the plane an aloofness that might have told anyone who saw her that she was just another teen girl traveling with a magazine in hand.

I remember her surprise as I asked about Cammie, how she looked at me, studying me, debating whether or not she should divulge information to a possible enemy. I had smiled my warm smile, but she didn't take it.

So she had just given me the basics, "She's a great girl, great student, great _spy and pavement artist_, and my very best friend." She had said, the last part in a threatening tone, as if warning me not to hurt her, before turning back to the magazine that appeared to be a teen girl magazine, but was in fact a covered _Espionage Today_ magazine.

"She's going to be okay, you know, she's going to come back." She says, changing the subject, and the condfident way she says it, is the same way she might comment have said "Ditching P&E is no big deal"

"Why aren't you worried Ms. Baxter?" I'm compelled to ask. She's Cammie's best friend, she is the person who knows Cammie the best, yet she doesn't seem worried at all,

"Because, she was thought by the very best." She replies, giving me a michievous wink.

"She'll be back, you'll see" she says, getting up from the stool, placing the half –full bag of M&M on my desk, and accomodating my stool and turning to leave.

"Oh, and sir?" she asks by the door.

"Yes, Ms. Baxter?"

"Don't underestimate her, because they won't." She tells me before walking out unto the hall.

The End

This is the last chapter I apologize for the long wait. I must let you know the two reasons I wrote this story. They were: 1) I couldn't get enough of Mr. Solomon and 2) I needed to kill time up until the release of GG5, and since that has come around I trust Ally Carter will deliver to us the story better than I ever possibly could. Thanks so much to all of you who Reviewed, Favorited and Alerted this story, all those notifications in my inbox meant a lot to me.


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